<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Miseriae by Bonami27</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986237">Miseriae</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonami27/pseuds/Bonami27'>Bonami27</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shadowhunters (TV), Shadowhunters (TV) RPF, Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Alec Lightwood &amp; Jace Wayland Friendship, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apocalypse, Background Clary Fray/Simon Lewis, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherhood, Brothers, Child Abuse, Clary Fray &amp; Simon Lewis Friendship, Comfort/Angst, Declarations Of Love, Demon Apocalypse, Demonic Possession, Demons, Drama &amp; Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Bonding, Father Jace Wayland, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt Jace Wayland, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injured Jace Wayland, Inured Clary Fray, Jace Wayland Feels, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Morning Sickness, Mother Clary Fray, Multi, POV Clary Fray, POV Jace Wayland, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Apocalypse, Pregnant Clary Fray, Pregnant Sex, Protective Jace Wayland, Psychological Torture, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Rough Sex, Runes, Sex, Shameless Smut, Sibling Bonding, Sick Character, Slow Romance, Smut, Soulmates, The Clave (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Torture, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Sex, graphic death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:54:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonami27/pseuds/Bonami27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Demon Apocalypse | Alternate Universe | Jace x Clary | Clary x Simon | Alec x Magnus</p><p>A world full of demons, death and dwindling hope and yet Clary and Jace are all the other needs to feel whole.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clary Fray &amp; Simon Lewis, Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Clary Fray/Simon Lewis, Isabelle Lightwood/Meliorn, Magnus Bane &amp; Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Maia Roberts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Demon Apocalypse AU. </p><p>The Demon Apocalypse is based roughly on The Last of Us (I and II), I Am Legend, The Walking Dead and 28 Days Later. Replace zombies with flesh eating demons.</p><p>Something a little different this time around. I can say this is going to be an EXTREMELY lengthy story. As it is, I've already written roughly 80,000 words (Thanks Covid-19 ISO) and I could probably write another 80,000 if I were to get to a level where I'm really satisfied with. Story will mostly follow Clary and Jace, however there are portions of the story that focus solely on Simon, Alec, Izzy and Magnus as well as on Valentine and The Circle. </p><p>* A hell of a lot of angst, so felt I should put trigger warnings for those with issues pertaining to abuse (physical, emotional and psychological), cannibalism, torture, attempted rape, extreme depictions of violence, injury and death as well as for scenes of graphic sex (consensual), unplanned pregnancies and discussions on abortions.</p><p>** This story is not for the faint of heart, so please do NOT read this story should any of the above trigger warnings impact on you.</p><p>*** POTENTIAL Major Character Death.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The winter of the outbreak was the coldest, the harshest.</p><p>The bitter winds were relentless as they nipped at Clary’s nose and cheeks, leaving the tips of her fingers red raw and icy to the touch, the lack of warmth in the air often chilling her to her core.</p><p>Porcelain white snow littered the ground and she thought to herself that it was too perfect for the decaying world it graced. The days before the plague had descended upon the world felt like a far off memory, fleeting, as though they belonged in some other century. The days where she had been carefree and full of joy were difficult to remember, but nothing could ever stop her from remembering <em>him</em>. He was a part of her, her better half, the half she wished had stayed.</p><p>
  <em>“Do you have to leave?”</em>
</p><p>Clary’s voice was but a silent whisper spoken into the frighteningly still night. No one had left the confines of their house in weeks and she didn’t think that it was because of the strict curfew each zone was condemned to but more because of the fear so instilled in everyone at the unknown that could come knocking at his or her door.</p><p>None of that mattered when she was with him though, the boy next door who would always find time to whisk her away to their special place before disappearing into the night once more.</p><p>Said boy glanced down at her, moonlight reflected in his carob brown eyes. He smiled, something so rare and beautiful that she felt her heart skip a beat in her chest.</p><p>"It won't be for long," he replied softly. "Besides, the army needs all the support they can get in defending the front lines. Someone’s got to do it and I figure I’m of more use out there than I am in here.”</p><p>"But why does that someone have to be you? I mean, no offense, but you’re not exactly your typical ‘G.I Joe’." Clary said. "What about us, Simon? Our memories, our future, does none of that matter to you now?"</p><p>The boy shook his head as he looked at her and shrugged, his features sad. "You know that all of that means more to me than anything, but if choosing this path means that I have a chance at keeping you safe, then I will gladly walk down it.” He confided in her. "As it is,” he said as he turned to look at her, “you agreed that this was for the best, for both of us."</p><p>“Because you gave me no other choice.” Clary said pleadingly, staring up at the boy hidden in the shadow of the night. “I agreed with you that, given the situation, perhaps focusing on getting ourselves and our families to safety should be our priority, but I’m not okay with you trying to break things off with me just so you can willingly throw yourself at those… those <em>things</em>.”</p><p>Clary’s voice cracked and the boy before her must have noticed because he is standing before her in an instant, taking her face delicately in his hands, coaxing her to lift her head to look at him. She always marvelled at the warmth of his touch, his sun-kissed skin somehow always managing to retain its colour even in the dead of winter.</p><p>“Hey, listen to me,” he hummed. “Everything will be okay. Nothing is ever going to stop me from coming back to you, you know that. I just think… I think things are better off this way, at least for now.” He says as he caresses his calloused thumb across her cheek. “And maybe when I come back, things will be different,” he shrugs. “Maybe there will be a cure and those who have been infected will have been saved and life can finally go back to how it used to be.” A pregnant pause fills the air before he continues. “Here… I want you to have this.”</p><p>He paused, removing his hands from where they’d been caressing her face and moving them instead to the thin silver chain that had been hidden beneath his thick woollen jumper. He lifted the chain from his slender neck and over his head, dangling it before her. Clary recognises it immediately as the chain housing his military dog tag. Though it may look like any other standardized military dog tag, his was one of a kind, the words ‘Simon Lewis’ and the numbers ‘171090’ embossed into the cool, grey metal to identify him among the hundreds, if not thousands, of other recruits headed to the front lines.</p><p>“Take this,” he said, his eyes full of sorrow as he moved to clasp the chain around her slender neck. “This way, wherever you go, a part of me will always be there with you.”</p><p>Clary tore her eyes from his to look down at the necklace now adorning her neck, the weight of it heavy.</p><p>“Okay…” she whispered.</p><p>And though he knows he ought not to, he leaned forward once more, taking her face in his hands and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.</p><p>“We’ll get through this,” he whispered. “I promise.”</p>
<hr/><p>Summer: A year on.</p><p>The sticky heat of summer is almost unbearable as Clary trudged her way through the streets of the now derelict city. The golden sun shines brilliantly in the turquoise blue sky above her, it’s rays bearing down on her back, face and in her eyes, causing her to squint as a thin sheen of sweat coats her forehead. The city is quiet, eerily so, the streets lined with ransacked and abandoned vehicles. The once thriving metropolitan, now the remnants of a war zone.</p><p>Judging by the look of things, this city, like so many before it, had fallen victim to the military’s failed attempt to quell the growing number of demons. Their idea had been brilliant, in theory anyway; Evacuate any survivors to the dedicated ‘safe zones’, bomb the cities and eradicate any remaining demons, problem solved. It hadn't worked, of course, but Clary admired their determination, however misplaced it might have been.</p><p>Outside the city and in suburbia Clary had waited anxiously for the better half of a year for any sign or whisper of Simon or his whereabouts but with each passing day and the world she once knew crumbling around her, Clary’s doubts of the boys return grew. She’d lost track of the amount of time that had passed since the initial outbreak; her family and friends were either dead or missing and places that once reminded her of home, no longer existed.</p><p>Following the evacuation of the quarantined zones and the dropping of the bombs, the true chaos, began. What had been an attempt to minimize the growing threat of the disease and the number of those infected with the demon plague, soon turned into calamity and the military quickly found themselves overrun. The military abandoned the original safe zones as one by one, they fell victim to the unbridled power of the infected, any survivors, were left to fend for themselves.</p><p>Clary had only two options; kill, or be killed and so she chose to leave everything she’d ever known behind her, in a desperate attempt to find somewhere safe or better yet, someone she knew, someone who reminded her of home, someone like Simon.</p><p>Despite all his promises, Simon never returned home from the front line following that winter a year ago. Her memory of the warmth from his sun kissed skin and his carob coloured eyes began to fail her. The only physical reminder of him was the necklace that now hung from her neck, the weight of finding it’s owner a heavy burden.</p><p>Days blur into one another and often Clary does not know in which direction her feet carry her, she hasn't for some time; the only thing Clary knows for certain is that she has to survive. Ever since the original safety zones in each city were wiped clean, there have been rumours of new safe zones popping up along the edges of towns, along the coast and in what were once metropolitan areas. Clary thinks to herself that maybe that was where others who had survived the carnage thus far had gone, that maybe that was where Simon had wound up, but at times when she is on her own, she wonders if anyone is still alive at all.</p><p>After what seems like hours Clary comes to a halt beside an abandoned vehicle and plops herself against it, doubling over as she struggles to catch her breath, the heat making things doubly as exhausting as what they would normally be. If apocalyptic-life has taught Clary anything, it’s that you always need to be ready to make a sprint for it in the case that any demons might make an appearance. She takes deep breaths in an effort to steady her breathing, craning her neck to look towards the sky. She wonder when the last time was that she’d seen a bird in the sky or smelt the scent of flowers on the wind.</p><p>Clary waits there for a minute, her feet screaming in agony, begging her to just sit down and rest, but the way her stomach growls reminds her that she hasn't eaten in two days and that she’s supposed to be looking for food.</p><p>"There’s no use in standing around," Clary sighs. "Let's just hope the rest of these houses haven’t been picked clean.”</p><p>Clary knows that the idea of talking to herself may seem weird but opportunities of having company is slim to none. Clary also knows that the only person that she can fully trust, the only person that she can consider a true friend, is herself. People nowadays almost always have ulterior motives, desperate times calling for desperate measures, and they often won’t hesitate to be rid of those who might get in the way of what ever it is they want.</p><p>After a few more minutes, Clary straightens up and begins walking toward the next house along the empty street. By now, this has become routine. Scavenging houses is all anyone can take to doing as a means of surviving amidst a pandemic. She often considers herself lucky if she finds anything of use because lord only knows how many times one house has been rummaged through before her.</p><p>Clary walks towards her left and up to a fairly intact house that looks rather promising, hopping over one of the opened windowsills on the main landing, being careful to create as little noise as possible. The house, despite the chaos and dust, looks as if no one has touched it in years and it makes her feel as if the owners of the house remain upstairs, or in the next room over, but she knows instinctively that they are gone, most likely dead. A sudden chill runs down Clary’s spine when she spots a child's doll lying limp on the stairs.</p><p>Making her way over to the staircase, Clary takes to gripping her 9mm handgun close to her chest, although she’s not afraid to admit that she favours the technique of flight over fight. While Clary prides herself in her stealth abilities, she’s not afraid of attacking a demon, or worse, another straggler, if they try to come after her.</p><p>Thankfully, the house is empty of any demons or survivors, though that means nothing, when after an hour of searching all she manages to find is a few rags, which will no doubt come in handy for when she has her period or for wiping off the sweat and grime that have build up on her skin, the house clearly having been picked over countless times throughout the past year.</p><p>Clary continues her trek along the eerily quiet street, breaking into the next three houses along the row with ease and coming across two old granola bars, a dull switchblade, and an unused sketchbook, that she figures will help pass the time. Clary has always like to sketch, ever since she was a child. She found that it always provided her an escape to a different world, now more than ever from the dreary reality she was faced with.</p><p>Clary finishes rummaging through the last few houses on the street but comes up empty handed. Despite her exhaustion, she’s determined to find at least one thing of proper use before the day is out. She continues on to the next street over, taking to scrounging through the first house she comes across, her ears pique at the sounds of demons. The sounds they emit are too distinct to miss; a cacophony of moaning and snarling filling the still air, the smell of charred flesh potent as it stings her nose. Clary only recognises how close the demons are when she snaps her head up to look out the window of the kitchen of the house she’s in and sees two, no, three, demons slithering around aimlessly. Her stomach drops because you know that where there is one, there is always more, hidden in the shadows but always ready to strike.</p><p>"Oh shit," Clary hisses, ducking her head, hoping that none of the demons saw or heard her. "Shit, shit, shit. Why now?"</p><p>Sinking to the ground, Clary crawls on all fours to find cover behind the kitchen cabinets, her hand clutching at her pounding heart as if to calm it, fingers coming up to clasp themselves around the metal dog tag around her neck, gripping it tightly in her hand. She takes a deep breath followed by another and one more for good measure.</p><p>"Come on Clary, you’ve handled worse than this," Clary mumbles to herself. "You got this. You got this."</p><p>‘<em>You can sneak by them’</em>, Clary tells herself. <em>‘You don't have to kill them; save your bullets for when you'll really need them’.</em></p><p>With newfound courage, Clary makes to slowly get to her feet as she remain hunched over in case she needs to dive for cover. Clary begins her slow trek out of the house, making sure to do everything with careful and measured steps so that she doesn't alert the demons of her presence. Once outside, Clary takes to walking back towards the houses she had just been in only to stop dead in her tracks when she sees yet another of the demons a few paces in front of her, distracted momentarily by the Angel only knows what. Her panic heightens again and, by now, she can feel the pulse of her hammering heart in her throat and though she tries to push it down, she knows it's useless. Clary spins on your heel and dashes forward to a parked car nearby, ducking behind it to hide from the four demons nearby. Her eyes quickly scan the situation, assessing what she can do to make it out alive.</p><p>Still preferring to flee than fight, Clary lightly tiptoes her way around the car and decides to stay put on the side of the road where she can hide from the damned. She is almost out of harms way when something happens - something terrible.</p><p>In her haste to remain quiet so as to slip past the demons, Clary doesn't watch where her feet are going and before she’s fully aware, her foot has brushed up against a metal pipe that lay on the ground. The sound it makes as it scrapes across the concrete is so unbelievably loud that it makes her wince. She hopes that maybe the demon doesn't notice but when she hears its guttural voice peaking in interest and watch as it’s head snaps in her direction, making eye contact with her, her hopes are all but crushed. It’s face is that of death, sunken pitch black eyes and flesh eroding away at it’s jaw where she can see it’s bloodied teeth. Now that she gets a good look in, the entirety of the demon is coated in crimson blood, pouring from its eyes and caking its impossibly thick, scaled skin. To Clary, their eyes are always the most frightening thing about them, as they are pitch black voids, laced with nothing but hunger for human flesh.</p><p>The demon notices her now, its inhuman face scrunching up into a snarl as its tongue violently lashes out at the open air, saliva and blood dripping from its chin. It moves, and when it does, it moves fast, leaving Clary with barely enough time to register the fact that it has even noticed her before it’s standing right in front of the car she’s hiding behind. She fumbles with the gun in her hand as the demon marches closer to her, aiming the gun in her hand at it's head with shaking hands. Clary doesn't second-guess herself before she pulls the trigger, the bullet meeting with the demons forehead. A moment later, the demon falls limp to the ground, its body crumbling in a heap. But, as the reverberation of the gunshot echoes through the abandoned street, the devastation of what Clary has just done hits her like a ten tonne truck.</p><p>It is with that one gunshot that <em>he</em> notices. But so too do <em>they</em>.</p><p>They hear the shrill bang of the bullet leaving her gun and the three demons she had been trying to avoid confrontation with in the first place, now see her. For some reason, instead of scrambling to her feet in the hopes she’ll out run them, Clary takes to aiming her gun at them, shooting at large. Her aim has never been bulls-eye perfect and so it is that she’s only able to knock out one more of the demons before realising that with each bullet that leaves the barrel of her gun, more and more demons become aware of her presence. Clary yelps in panic when she sees another demon emerge from somewhere on her left, it’s then that she scrambles to her feet, making to run down the street.</p><p>As fast as she is, the demons are faster, especially when they have prey in their sight. As Clary runs from them, pushing her legs to their limits, she lands on her foot strangely, causing a sharp pain to shoot up from her ankle, through her leg and into her brain, making her collapse to the ground in a heap. As she falls, her gun is knocked to the ground out of her reach. Clary’s head makes contact with the gravel and it hurts, a lot. Her vision blurred, she gives her head a shake and frantically looking over her shoulder to see one of the demons just a metre behind her, snarling, its gnarly hands reaching out for her.</p><p>Clary cries out in desperation as the demon tries to take a hold of her ankles, her legs. She wriggles herself free of its grasp and eventually lands a solid kick to its face. Startled, the demon loosens its grip, giving Clary the opportunity to free herself of its grasp. She scrambles to get back on her feet, wincing in pain at the soreness building up in her ankle. Clary’s terrified that she might not make it now, that all these months of fighting for her life will come to an end from her one small mistake. She tries reaching out for her gun that is a few feet in front of her, her slender fingers barely having curled around the handle when she hears a loud bang.</p><p>Clary startles at the sound of another gunshot, one that neither came from nor was aimed at her. The demon that had hoed in on her, drops to the ground, motionless. Clary takes a moment to look for the one who shot the gun but instead is met with the sight of another three lesser demons quickening their pace, charging towards her. Clary hardly has time to react when her ears are yet again met with the sound of the gun going off three more times, each of the bullets released finding its mark with the three remaining demons heads.</p><p>It is then that the street goes silent, save for the sound of the shots that still echo in the air. Clary hears someone drop to the ground, reloading their gun, and scrambles to her feet once more, panic still coursing through her veins. ‘<em>Trust no one’</em>. The words reverberate in her mind and make her shrink back from the person as they make themselves known, standing out in broad daylight.</p><p>It is then that you finally see him.</p><p>A boy, roughly around Clary's age stands before her, taking to reloading the rifle that he grips tightly in his hands. He's tall and lean but looks strong. His face is rather striking, his jaw chiseled and doe like golden eyes that give him a sort of boyish look. Messy blonde hair falls into his eyes as his gaze locks on Clary. Despite the summer heat, he's wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and heavy black combat boots with a black leather jacket tied around his waist. All of it is covered in blood, dirt, and sweat, and is tattered, but Clary knows she must look much the same, if not worse.</p><p>"What? No thank you for saving your life?” the boys says, his voice laced with sarcasm as he takes to raking his hand through his sweat drenched hair, pushing it back from his face.</p><p>His voice is low, smooth like honey, and though he seems nice, Clary decides to keep her distance.</p><p>"I-I- What?" she stammers. "Thanks, but I would’ve been fine without you… if my foot hadn’t slipped.”</p><p>Clary stops suddenly when he holds the intricate looking rifle up in his hands, pointing it directly at her forehead. It’s not like any standardised gun Clary’s seen before; the barrel is etched with beautiful carvings of what look like Sanskrit symbols. Clary’s attention is quickly caught when the boy nudges the gun towards her.</p><p>"I’ve been following you for three days; if I hadn’t been, you’d be dead.” He states before continuing. “Haven't you learned by now that we can't afford to slip up?" he asks, his gaze menacing.</p><p>"You were following me?" Clary snaps, eyeing him angrily. "And what the hell? Are you trying to intimidate me?"</p><p>The boy’s chapped lips pull back into a faint smirk. "Is it working?"</p><p>Clary’s eyes narrow into a glare and you scoff. The boy looks her once over up and down and nods to your arms.</p><p>"Humour me, will you?" he asks.</p><p>Rolling her eyes, Clary shakes her head but understands what he wants. She holds out her arms to him, allowing him to inspect the smooth skin that remains free of any bites. The boy still doesn't look pleased so Clary decides to twirl for him, letting him inspect her body to make certain she was not bitten or scratched by any of the demons, as that’s how the demonic plague is contracted.</p><p>Once Clary think he’s satisfied, she stands before him, her hands on her hips.</p><p>“Satisfied?” she asks.</p><p>The boy huffs before lowering his rifle and swinging it over his back. He gives Clary another quick once over before turning on his heel, leaving her staring after him in bewilderment.</p><p>"H-Hey!" Clary calls out after him, pushing herself forward. She fumbles to grab her gun as she starts running after him. "Where are you going?"</p><p>"Can you shut up, please?" he snaps, not bothering to look back at her. "Where there’s one, there’s always more. I doubt that those four lesser demons back there are the only ones hanging around here.”</p><p>Realising that what he’s saying is most probably true, Clary lowers her voice though she doesn't stop chasing after him. His taller figure makes his strides long and swift meaning that Clary struggles to keep up.</p><p>“What are you doing following me?" he asks. "I saved your life today because I felt like it, but make no mistake, usually I'd kill any stragglers and take their things. Don't make me change my mind now."</p><p>"Okay… I admit that’s a little off putting but what you did back there, that was insane!" Clary says, almost too excitedly. “You have skill, with your brawn and my brains we could-“</p><p>"No," he says suddenly, rounding on his heel to stare at her. "I know what you're going to suggest and my answer is no."</p><p>Clary stares up at him as she comes to a halt, her arms folding over her chest. "Oh? Pray tell; what was I going to suggest?"</p><p>The boy grimaces, his golden eyes flickering behind her as if checking for any infected before settling back on her.</p><p>"You were going to suggest that we pair up," he says. "Stick together and that way we have a better chance at making it through all this. But I work alone; it's better that way."</p><p>"You know," Clary sighs, "I’ve heard that far too often and all it’s done is turn people against one another. We’re no better off in sending the demons back to hell or creating a vaccine for the demonic plague, so the way I see it, people working alone really hasn’t done the world any good."</p><p>"I hate to crush your teenage dreams, but as far as I can tell, the demons aren't going anywhere. They’ve been around for as long as written history can recall, and I really can’t see that changing any time soon," The boy replies grimly. "There is no cure, no way to minimise their growing numbers. This is our life now. Killing other people is the only way we can survive."</p><p>"Do you really believe that? That there will never be any end to the demons? That killing is the only way to survive?" Clary asks incredulously, shaking her head in disbelief.</p><p>Evading her question, the boy takes to raking his hand through his hair once more.</p><p>"All I know is that emotion clouds judgement and that to love in a world like this, is to be destroyed," he says grimly before continuing. "Okay. Let's say you came with me; what's there to say that I wouldn't kill you some time down the line? What's there to say that I won't kill you right now?"</p><p>Clary stares him down, gauging his level of seriousness.</p><p>"To love is to destroy? Where’d you pick that up from?” Clary scoffs before answering the boy’s question. “If you wanted me dead as much as you say, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation." Clary responds.</p><p>The boy's stare hardens and then he's turning away again to walk off. "Maybe you’re right but my answer remains the same; I work alone, it’s as simple as that."</p><p>"Oh, come on!" Clary groans. "What’s the harm in it? I could use your help and you could use mine."</p><p>"I'm not listening, now be on your way, mundie." He replies in a sing-song voice.</p><p>"Mundie? What is that? Some weird nickname you give people?” Clary quirks a delicate eyebrow, “Ugh, whatever. Like I said earlier; you can be my brawn, and I can be your brains." She jests.</p><p>"Wow. Okay, rude. Do you really want me to kill you?" he huffs.</p><p>"No, no, just listen!" Clary says, jogging forward despite the pain in her ankle, until she’s standing in front of him and blocking his path. "I'm stealthy. I'll admit, what happened just now doesn’t go very far to uphold my statement, but four against one aren’t exactly fair odds. Having said that I have taken down my fair share of demons. Asides from providing you with an extra gun, l can find us food, weapons, supplies. I can sneak into the small places your broad, manly shoulders can't get to and ration anything I find with you, so long as you keep up your impressive headshot skills and help me."</p><p>The offer must interest the boy because he takes a deep breath and sighs, almost in defeat. "What do you need my help for?"</p><p>"I need your help to find my boyf-, my friend." Clary corrects herself quickly.</p><p>"Sorry to say it, but they're probably dead," The boy says in a resigned sort of manner.</p><p>Clary frowns. "I doubt that. He was a part of the military. He's trained and he's smart and I doubt he’d be knocked off that easily. There are a few quarantine zones that I heard the recruits were relocated to. Getting there is the best chance I have at finding him."</p><p>"The zones were all wiped clean," The boy replies. "I would know - I've been there. I was a recruit of sorts, too."</p><p>"Well, that explains your accuracy," Clary muses. A thought suddenly pops into her head and her face lights up. "Wait, maybe you've heard him, of my friend. Does the name Simon Lewis ring any bells?"</p><p>The boy pauses, thinking, and then some sort of recognition flashes across his face. "Simon Lewis? Yeah, if the Simon Lewis you’re referring to is the one I’m thinking of then yes, I know of him. I was responsible for training his squadron for a while.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “Wait a second; are you Clarissa Fray?"</p><p>The mention sound of her name catches Clary’s attention and she looks at him, interested. "Yes?”</p><p>The boy nods in earnest, as if hinting at something.</p><p>And then it seems to hit Clary as she stares up at him, squinting past the sun.</p><p>"Wait… you’ve seen Simon? <em>My</em> Simon?" Simon’s name slips from Clary’s lips in an astonished whisper as she looks up at the young man before her. The young man, whose name she’d yet to learn, nods slowly as he dabs at the sweat forming on his furrowed brow.</p><p>“Your Simon? What is it with mundies and thinking that other people belong to them?” the boy shakes his head.</p><p>“You said you were responsible for training his squadron? How’s that possible? You can’t be more than twenty-five. There’s no way someone so young could be put in charge of training an entire squadron of troops.” Clary says cautiously. “Who are you?”</p><p>“It’s not <em>who</em> I am that you should be asking, but <em>what</em>.” The young man responds, his golden eyes iridescent in the sunlight.</p><p>Clary stares at the young man, his features striking.</p><p><em>‘What does he mean by ‘</em>what<em>’ he is?’</em></p><p>Before Clary could ask the question, the young man was speaking once again.</p><p>“I’m Jace. Jace Wayland, and I’m a Shadowhunter.”</p><p><em>‘Jace Wayland, huh? His name is almost as pretentious as he is.’</em> Clary thought before responding.</p><p>“A Shadowhunter? What’s that? A special rank or something?” Clary asked incredulously.</p><p>“I wouldn’t expect a mundane like yourself to understand. Regardless, if you want to find this Simon fellow you seem so keen on, I’m the best chance you have at finding him.” Jace says, his gaze steady. “Does your offer still stand?”</p><p>Clary nods, knowing that what Jace is saying about her finding Simon to be the truth. "Of course."</p><p>Jace nods, taking to walking down the street once more.</p><p>“So… if you’ve seen Simon, then you must know where he is, no?” Clary asks, following behind Jace, taking in his broad stature and the way his shoulders slouch.</p><p>"There's a zone East of here," Jace explains. "There was often talk of this zone amongst the upper echelon of the military and squadron trainers, of which I was one. Of course, when I was in active service, the Eastern most zone was still under construction but from what I overheard, it’s supposedly some kind of safe haven, a utopia of sorts, for mundanes, like yourself and ninety percent of the population.” Jace explains, turning his head over his shoulder so Clary can hear him. “Any survivors would be there; maybe even your Simon.” Jace says, taking a brief pause. “Simon… He’d had the highest of hopes of finding you and taking you there. You were all he talked about sometimes. It was a bit annoying really.” Jace says, eyeing Clary off seriously, as if to gauge her reaction.</p><p>The intensity of his gaze makes Clary feel uncomfortable. Unable to handle his scrutiny for long, she tears her eyes away from his face, taking to staring straight ahead at the streetscape ahead of her.</p><p>“I don't know what happened to him, though,” Jace continues after a moment, trekking on through the empty street. “After the bombs were dropped and the demons began to run rampant, there was nothing but chaos. The squadron I’d been leading, Simon included, got separated. That was the last time I saw him. I know it isn’t much to go off, but that’s probably your best lead in finding him.”</p><p>“You’re right. What you’ve told me is more news than I’ve had in more than a year about what happened to Simon and where he might be. So… thank you.”</p><p>“Sure thing.” Jace nods.</p><p>"So, we have a deal?" Clary asks.</p><p>Clary holds out her hand to him and he looks down at it, weighing his options in his head. After a very pregnant pause, he sighs and nods, reaching out to clasp his rough and calloused hands with hers.</p><p>"We have a deal," he repeats. "But if you and I are going to do this, there’s got to be some ground rules; We don't talk about our past lives. You stay to yourself, and I stay to myself, that way we'll get through this faster and, in the case that one of us dies, no hard feelings, clear? Oh, and one last thing; try to keep up."</p><p>Clary nods, perhaps too enthusiastically.</p><p>Relief washes over Clary at having found this Jace Wayland character and though she doesn't know why, she can’t help but want to place fully her trust in the young man with the striking features and radiant eyes. She may not know him, but his words hold promise of finding Simon, which is more than she’s had in a long time. Maybe she’s foolish for trusting in a boy who’s probably just as lost as she is. But, for now, Clary quickens her pace and lags behind him, adrenaline pumping through her veins at the prospect of promising days ahead.</p><p>"So, what now?" Clary asks.</p><p>Jace glances around the street, still on high alert for any demons that may be lingering in the shadows, and then gestures to a narrow side street.</p><p>"We get the hell out of here," he says, "and fast."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Good lord are sex scenes difficult to write. For me, I don't want to write the story of Clary and Jace as one of senseless boning and mind numbing sex. Of course, they're young adults and wanting to explore their sexual boundaries is natural and completely normal, so I have tried to take that into account when writing their characters, but I also want to be true to the books in that the way that Clary and Jace feel for one another goes beyond being a physical connection. It's emotional and spiritual and I really want to show that the two characters deeply and truly care and feel for one another. </p><p>SO; apologies that it took so long to upload this chapter. It is quite lengthy and I may have been slightly tipsy when finishing it off, so there's no doubt some (or many( typos and mistakes throughout but regardless, I hope you enjoy it!</p><p>* I also don't know why the story is marked as complete when I haven't ticked the box to say that it is. Ah well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>MAJOR SEX SCENE. If you're not into all that, I suggest you avert your eyes. Things do get pretty hot and heavy between your two mains. </p><p>Again, all prior trigger warnings apply. Read at your own discretion.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jace does not lie when he says he works alone.</p><p>At the time of their first meeting, when he relayed all his rules to Clary, she’d assumed he was only joking, that the boredom would kick in and that eventually he’d crack, turning to talk to her about anything, simply to pass the time, but he doesn't. There are times where the two of them go for what feels like days without so much as a proper conversation. The only time the two of them talk is when he asks Clary to crawl through a small opening so that the both of them can pick through whatever remains within whatever building they’ve come across. That and the times when he’s shushing her to be quiet when they come up against demons, asides from that, Jace’s silence is brooding. Despite his non-communicative mannerisms, Jace keeps his promise; protecting Clary from demons as she rations the food and supplies she manages to find.</p><p>Clary gets the feeling that Jace has doubts on whether she’s capable of looking after herself but she finds comfort in the knowledge that she’s done perfectly fine without his or anyone else’s help up until now. She will admit, though not to him, that she’s grateful to have his company.</p><p>Though Jace won’t openly admit it, the presence of Clary’s company starts to grow on him as she proves herself more than useful, particularly when she helps him find the parts he’s been on the hunt for in order to re-build an old pickup truck he found, the vehicle still relatively intact.</p><p>Days pass and before Clary’s fully aware, time marks two weeks since she and Jace had their first run in, both with each other and with the demons. In moments when she’s not squeezing through impossibly tight openings in all manner of building or scrounging through cupboards and drawers Clary takes to studying him, his features and mannerisms.</p><p>To Clary, Jace was unlike any person she’d ever come across. He was uncommonly handsome; a boy on the cusp of manhood, his golden orbs having seen too much horror for one so young, though despite that, they hadn’t lost that boyish glint of mischief. Despite Jace’s attractive exterior, Clary struggled to see past his cocky attitude; Jace’s stature and expression exuded a level of confidence that could rival even the most self-absorbed of people. He was arrogant, egotistical and blunt to a fault and Clary wondered if Jace were capable of loving anyone but himself. Though Clary sometimes felt the want to claw at Jace’s caustic exterior, she could tell that Jace was an incredibly intelligent individual; fighting, hunting and killing all things he excelled at. On the off chance that Jace wasn’t busy sending demons back to hell or making sarcastic comments on just about anything, he would brood in silence.</p><p>Clary found herself wondering what Jace concealed from her. She wondered where he came from, if he had any family, where he was the day the demon plague first appeared and what he’d do if ever the world returned to how it had once been. More than all of that, Clary wondered what fears, hopes and dreams Jace hid beneath his suffocating ego.</p><p>As she follows behind Jace on one of their routine scavenger hunts, Clary can make out what appear to be jagged scars and black runic marks covering the skin at Jace’s nape. In her head, Clary ran through what they might mean; for one so young, he seemed to be fairly heavily inked. Though at first Clary found Jace to be rather brash and overly forthright, she couldn’t deny that it was refreshing to be around someone who said things for how they truly were. Despite his somewhat cool treatment of her over the past fortnight, Clary had discovered that Jace was kind at heart. He’d often ask if she needed to rest or offer to take the first watch when the day had come to a close. It mightn’t have meant much to him, but Clary was appreciative of his gestures nonetheless.</p>
<hr/><p>It goes without saying that larger buildings, such as warehouses, shopping malls, or even multi-level car-parks are ones best avoided in a post-apocalyptic world setting. The reason for this is simple; the larger the space, the larger the number of demons. If the demons don’t get to you first, there’s always the chance that the building itself will; crushing you as it crumbles, as they’ve been known to do.</p><p>Clary is always remotely aware of the risks associated with large, seemingly abandoned spaces but no matter how she tries to explain her concerns, there’s no swaying Jace the day they come upon what has to be one of the largest shopping malls she’s ever laid eyes on.</p><p>"Think of all the stuff we might find," Jace says, driving the now functioning car ever closer to the parking lot of the mall.</p><p>"Or the den of demons," Clary mumbles, almost resigned to her fate.</p><p>"You worry too much," he replies. "Besides; it’s not like we can’t handle a few demons,” he says, quirking a golden brow. “But hey, by all means, stay here and guard the car while I go off and explore."</p><p>"What? So you can go and get yourself killed?" Clary states, more than asks. "I might think that you’re a complete idiot, but there’s no way I’m letting you go in there alone. You'll need my help and someone to laugh in your face and say ‘I told you so’ when we're running for our lives from the horde of demons that will no doubt come chasing after us.”</p><p>Jace lets out a huff, his lips pulling into a smirk as he reverses the car into one of the many available car parking spots. Exiting the car, he pockets the keys as he makes his way round to the passenger side, opening Clary’s door.</p><p>She stares up at his handsome, somewhat grimy face, and she’s sure he’d have to be blind to not notice the unease playing upon her face. He grimaces slightly as he takes her in.</p><p>"Look; whatever happens in there, I’m not going to leave you behind. Okay?” he does his best to assure her and put her mind at ease.</p><p>He steps back as Clary makes to step out of the front seat. Heading to the tray of the truck Jace grabs his backpack and intricately carved rifle from the backseat and shoots Clary a wink in an effort to cheer her up.</p><p>“We’ll be fine, trust me.”</p><p>Clary wants to believe him but a feeling of dread has begun to settle in the pit of her stomach and she knows it won’t abate until both she and Jace are miles from here.</p><p>Not wanting to be left alone, Clary follows behind Jace, clutching her gun so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turn white. She and Jace emerge into an open atrium of sorts. Clary imagines this particular shopping mall must have been quite the place to be, back in the day, but it is now a mere phantom of it’s past grandeur. Overgrown with vines, grass and weeds, parts of the structure have given way to the weight of mother nature reclaiming what is rightfully hers. Rays of sun pour through the still relatively intact atrium roof. If it weren’t so eerily still, Clary would allow herself to think the scene rather pretty.</p><p>Without warning, Jace whistles, the sound echoing through the open space of the atrium. Clary startles and whacks Jace across his burly chest, scolding him with a reminder that demons are most probably lurking in the shadows. It is evident through many of the stores smashed windows and pried open doors that the mall has already been pilfered by early survivors whom most probably fled when the safe zones were overrun, stopping here to gather as many supplies as they could carry. Despite this though, both Clary and Jace are hopeful that they'll find at least something of use.</p><p>After much persuasion from Jace, the two of them decide to split up; the idea being that it’ll help the both of them cover twice as much ground, with each of them taking one side of the row of shops before them. Clary agrees that neither she nor Jace will stray very far, and simply take to exploring the surrounding shops nearby before regrouping every few feet.</p><p>Between the two of them they manage to find a number of out of date chip packets, muesli bars, a couple of cans of beans and soup, as well as a few first aid kits. As grateful as Clary is to have found the first aid kits, she notices that each and every one is intact bar for any disinfectant or alcohol swabs. Still though, at this rate, she’ll take anything she can find.</p><p>Jace himself picks out some new combat boots he finds adorning the feet of a mannequin on display in one of the stores, a great find given that the shoes currently on his feet are beginning to wear pretty thin. On his way back to meet up with Clary, he spots what looks like was either arts and crafts store or small community art room. He glances over in the direction of the stores Clary said she was going to search and figures that he still has enough time for a quick look at what the Pantone colour of the year was and staff recommended item was for the month at the time of the literal end of the world before heading back to where they’d agreed to meet.</p><p>Jace isn’t really sure what urged him into going to this particular part of the mall but something in him wants to see Clary smile. On the odd occasion that the two of them find a moment of downtime he would often catches Clary with her nose in a sketchbook, a soft smile painted across her face as she documented the world around her, her fingers smudged with charcoal. Her smile warms something in him, and he finds himself wishing to see more of it.</p><p>He isn’t sure what medium Clary is most drawn to so when he sees a dusty shelf sitting below a sign reading ‘Best Sellers’ he figures anything from there is bound be at least a relatively good pick. Marching over to the shelf, after having checked for any signs of demons, Jace picks up a couple of sketchpads, an expensive Derwent wooden box of seventy-two coloured pencils and a packet of artists charcoal, its colours varied. Dusting everything off, Jace pockets his finds into his backpack. He doesn’t pay much attention to the price or product names but is simply hopeful that Clary will enjoy the surprise of having a new sketchbook or two to fill. Happy with his finds, Jace decides to head back out of the store and towards to the agreed meeting place.</p><p>He waits there for a minute, re-ordering the items now filling his backpack before he sees Clary coming back around the corner. He straightens up, stuffing the pencil box and one of the sketchbooks he’d found behind his back as she approaches.</p><p>Clary gives him a quizzical look, wondering what he’s hiding behind his back. She’s about to ask after his escapades when he brings out his hands from behind his back and hands her a sketchbook and the wooden box of Derwent pencils.</p><p>"I saw that your pencils were frighteningly short and thought you could do with some more." Jace says, a sheepish grin across his face.</p><p>Clary stares up at him almost in disbelief.</p><p>“How did you- Where did you find this?” she asks him, her fingers running over the polished wood grain of the pencil box.</p><p>“There’s an old art store over there. I had a few minutes to kill before needing to meet you back here.” Jace explains, bathing in the happiness on Clary’s face.</p><p>“I’ve always wanted these pencils,” you explain to him. “My mum, she was an artist, a painter. I was always more into sketching myself. I remember seeing these in the local art shops window once and I’d begged and pleaded with her for the set, but knew deep down that we would never be able to afford them, so after a while, I gave up on asking for them.” Clary says, her voice soft with recollection. “It wasn’t until a couple of years later that my mum surprised me with this exact set the day I’d been accepted into The Brooklyn Academy of Art. Obviously… given the apocalypse, I never got around to using it. Thank you, Jace. Really.” Clary says, flashing him a genuine, warm smile.</p><p>“Sure thing. I’m glad you like it.” Jace responds. He decides to keep the knowledge of the other sketchpad and charcoal a secret, hoping to surprise her with them some other time, later down the line.</p><p>Eventually the two of them walk side-by-side through the mall, surveying the silent building in all its dilapidated glory. There's something oddly peaceful to be found in the way the sun cascades through the broken glass roof, highlighting a myriad of dust clouds floating about in the air. Clary is almost completely distracted by it that she doesn't entirely notice when Jace starts wandering off from her.</p><p>"Hey! Come check this out!" he exclaims.</p><p>Clary whips her head around towards the sight of him poking his head out of a nearby store.</p><p>“What are you doing? I thought we were getting out of here?” she asks him.</p><p>“It’s a souvenir store here. Want to check it out?” he replies.</p><p>“Why? Did you need to get a postcard for someone?" Clary asks, scoffing.</p><p>Jace rolls his eyes as he gestures for Clary to come over and into the store.</p><p>"Oh you’re funny, but no. Don’t you know there’s no post on Sundays?” He quips as Clary makes her way towards where he’s standing in the doorway. “I mean, take a look around. What do you see?"</p><p>As she pokes her head past Jace and into the store, Clary takes in row upon and row of tacky souvenir t-shirts and other material goods that flashed the insignia of the city you were in, in this case Chicago, mixed with an odd abundance of even tackier snow globes, plates, and key chains hidden behind glass enclosures.</p><p>Clary gives the store a quick once over and shrugs, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.</p><p>"Ummm; tacky souvenirs?" she states, not understanding what exactly Jace was hinting at.</p><p>"Breakable, tacky souvenirs," Jace corrects. "All still intact."</p><p>Clary turns to look at him, quirking a delicate eyebrow and crossing her arms over her chest. "And your point would be…?"</p><p>Jace looks at her, suddenly exasperated.</p><p>"You’re kidding me, right? You mean to tell me you've gone a whole year in this hellhole without letting out your pent up anger or frustration? Not even once? What is with you mundanes?" he asks her.</p><p>She stares at him as though he’s begun to sprout a second head. All she really wants head back to the car and be done with this place and. Jace walks further into the store and picks up a snow globe nearby, shaking it in his hand so that the many white make to look as though a blizzard is passing through the plastic scene within the glass sphere.</p><p>"Haven't you ever just wanted to let it all out? You know, go crazy and just trash something?” Jace asks.</p><p>"Honestly, no. Now can we leave?" She asks him, her voice pleading.</p><p>"Tsk, tsk. You mundanes seriously are no fun," Jace pouts.</p><p>Then, without warning, he throws the globe he’d been holding in his hand onto the ground, doing so with enough force that the globe shatters into tiny pieces.</p><p>“Jace?! Are you out of your mind?!” Clary shouts as he turns to her once more, shaking his head.</p><p>"Oh, I'm sorry,” he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Did you want me to pay for that?” he asks rhetorically. “There’s no one here! We can do whatever we want. We can break every single thing in this entire shop and there’ll be no one to yell at us or to throw us behind bars. Just try it. You'll feel liberated."</p><p>He snatches another globe from a shelf nearby and tosses it to Clary. She grabs it before it can drop to the floor and then eyes it off in her hands. When she looks back up, Jace is looking at her eagerly, waiting patiently.</p><p>“Jace, please stop it.” Clary says, shaking her head, a look of genuine fear upon her face.</p><p>He takes no notice of her plea, instead plucking a plate from one of the shelves sending it flying across the store. It makes impact with the stores front window, cracking the glass and shattering into pieces on the ground below.</p><p>“Fun; it comes highly recommended. You really should try it, you know.” Jace says, his face flushed.</p><p>“What is even up with you? One minute you’re plucking sketchbooks out of an art store to surprise with me with, and the next you’re vandalizing a store? Who even does that?” Clary says to him, sizing him up. “I don’t care if you need to let out pent up frustrations, but trashing a store like you are right now, is bound to catch someone’s or something’s attention. And heck, I don’t want to be anywhere near here when it does.” Clary lets out through gritted teeth.</p><p>“Look around us!” Jace practically shouts. “It’s just us. There’s nobody else here!” Jace says, wrapping his fingers around one of the last remaining snow globes on the shelf before chucking it hard at the wall to Clary’s right. Both Clary and Jace watch as it makes contact with the hard surface. Jace grins in satisfaction and Clary simply stares at him, coming to the conclusion that he’s truly lost his mind. She turns to make her way out of the store, not caring whether Jace decides to follow after her or not when she hears it.</p><p>A loud pterodactyl-like screech can be heard echoing throughout the mall. She whips around to face Jace, any grin he might have been wearing, now wiped clean from his face. His eyes meet Clary’s and she can see them widen in genuine fear.</p><p>“Just us, huh?” Clary practically hisses, her frustrations at his blatant stupidity coming to a boil.</p><p>"We’ve got to get out of here,” Jacek says. "Now, come on!"</p><p>“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you-“ Clary barks at Jace.</p><p>“You can lecture me all you want when we’re out of here. Just go!” Jace says as they both make their way back to the entrance of the souvenir store.</p><p>Clary shakes her head, biting down on her tongue as a way to refrain from telling Jace ‘I told you so’ because maybe, just maybe, the both of them still have a chance of escaping. She can hear the undeniable screeching of demons, louder and more pronounced this time. She doesn’t dare hazard a guess as to how many idemons must be lurking in the shadows of the mall, all she can focus on now is both herself and Jace making it out of here, alive.</p><p>Jace pushes her forward, the two of them running out of the souvenir store only to be greeted by the sight of five lesser demons sprinting forward from behind them.</p><p>"Damn it," Jace cries. "Run!"</p><p>Clary does exactly that. Picking up her pace, she runs side by side with Jace, the demons closing in from behind. A panicked shriek escapes her when six more demons suddenly emerge from what looks like might have been a garden centre, effectively blocking off what path remained towards the exit.</p><p>Jace comes to a sudden halt, causing Clary to slam into his back. She’s not given an opportunity to even blink before Jace is whirling around and withdrawing a revolver from the holster around his waist. There's no use in staying quiet now, which is why Jace doesn't hesitate in shooting at the demon closing in from behind Clary. She notices that he grimaces slightly and you wonder why but soon realise, when he grabs onto her hand and begins pulling her in the direction they had just come from, that he's leading them both toward a pair of escalators that are dangerously close to a further group of demons.</p><p>Clary stumbles after Jace, struggling to keep up with him as he rushes down the unmoving escalators two at a time, causing her to nearly trip over her own two feet. Just when Clary thinks the two of them are making headway, she and Jace are met with more and more demons emerging from every end of the mall. Clary can’t help but notice how her heart hammers within her chest, the ringing of it in her ears akin to the sound of battle drums. We’re going to die here. Clary doesn't even notice herself having said it out loud before Jace is squeezing her hand tightly, bringing her back to reality.</p><p>"We’re not going to die here," he reassures her. "Just don’t let go and don’t look back."</p><p>She looks at him and nods, trying her best to swallow her nerves. The shopping mall houses three levels, each level with their own multitude of exits. Clary and Jace are situated on the second level, trapped, in all senses of the word, by a growing horde of demons. Clary wonders how Jace plans to get them out as he starts running again, pulling her with him. He turns Clary left and right, shooting at any demons blocking his path, but his bullets seem to make no dent in their growing numbers. After a few more minutes of dodging and weaving from oncoming demons, they come across another pair of escalators at long last and they both run at lightning speed down the stairs and into a pit of even more demons.</p><p>"This entire place is crawling with demons!" Clary cries. "You're such an idiot, Jace! If you’d just listened to me-”</p><p>"Don't-" Jace huffs, completely out of breath. "Don't say it! We can still get through this!"</p><p>Pulling Clary with him through the crowd of demons, Jace eventually comes to a stop at one of the exit doors but finds it rusted shut, unable to be opened and almost cries out in frustration before whipping around once more and taking off in the opposite direction. Clary struggles to keep up, her lungs gasping for air, her legs burning, but she knows that to stop is to die. Jace tries another door but it's locked, too, which makes Jace yell in frustration as he kicks the metal out of anger. Clary scans her eyes quickly around the mall until her eyes happen across an exit door that’s within their reach. Clary gives no warning before she’s squeezing onto Jace’s hand tightly, pulling him with her.</p><p>They both sprint toward the door with a frantic need, ignoring the snarls coming from the demons. As soon as her hand comes into contact with the door, Clary almost cries out in delight, flinging it open with ease as she and Jace emerge into the parking lot.</p><p>"We need to get back to the car," Clary says, her panic still at heightened levels.</p><p>Jace groans in exhaustion, the thought of more running being more than he can bear, but nods in agreement.</p><p>They both run for another few minutes through the seemingly endless car park before finally spotting the pickup truck not too far off in the distance. For all their effort of trying to outrun them, the horde of demons are still closing in.</p><p>Without warning Jace pushes Clary forward and tosses her the car keys.</p><p>"Get to the car and start it," he says. "I'll try and hold them off, okay?"</p><p>Clary nods and pushes herself forward, her throat dry and the palms of her hands sweaty. A demon latches on to her but falls to the floor shortly thereafter after Jace plants a bullet through its head. Clary can hear the sound of Jace’s gun going off with each passing second but she doesn't dare look behind her for fear of it slowing her down.</p><p>Finally, Clary approaches the car, flinging open the door and sliding into the driver's seat. Shoving the key into the ignition she turns it once but find that the engine wheezes, struggling to come to life. The intensity of the situation suddenly increases and she grunts in frustration, turning the key again and again but to no avail. In her periphery Clary hears Jace yell out; twisting her head Clary sees him struggling to keep a sizeable demon at bay, barely managing to keep it from snapping at his neck, Jace, having taken to holding the barrel of his rifle against the devil spawns body.</p><p>He motions the hilt of the gun upward and into the demons jaw, causing it to stumble back before proceeding to blow a bullet through its head. Where Jace manages to kills one, ten more appear to take it’s place. Exhaustion quickly overcomes him, another of the demons figuratively and literally biting at his heels. Jace tries desperately to make a run for it but the demons soon overpower him, pushing him onto his back and into the ground. Clary gives her all in trying to get the engine started once more but gives up when the sound of Jace’s panicked shouts overwhelm her. Without giving it so much as a second guess, Clary reaches for her gun and aims it at the demon straddling Jace. She steadies her aim and fires, once, twice, three times, at the demon. The demons scaled flesh oozes with blood as it topples over, motionless. Jace pushes himself from the floor and props himself up on his elbows, relief flooding his face as he glances at Clary.</p><p>“Thank you.” He mouths at her.</p><p>"You can thank me later, now get your ass in here, Wayland!" Clary bellows. "There's too many of them to fight off!"</p><p>Jace nods as he scrambles to his feet. He dashes forward towards the car as Clary struggles once more to get the ignition started. Finally, after what has to be her tenth attempt, the engine roars to life. Clary curses in excitement, nearly shouting out in delight and slams the drivers door shut. Jace reaches the car and hops into the cargo area of the truck before banging on the roof of the car to signal her to go.</p><p>"Drive!" he shouts. "Floor it!"</p><p>Clary doesn’t hesitate to oblige Jace’s demands, gladly taking to revving the engine as she speeds out from the shopping mall car park and off down the street, swerving in and out of the crowd of demons as Jace tries to take out as many of them as he possibly can with the remaining bullets in his gun.</p><p>By some miracle they avoid major incident, outrunning (or perhaps in this case, outdriving) the horde of demons, now miles behind them.</p><p>When the coast is clear and it is just she and Jace once more, Clary brings the car to a halt, pulling the handbrake up so that Jace can get into the caddy. Clary clambers over the seat into the passenger side as Jace hops out of the back and into the driver's side seat. The both of them slump against their seats and sigh. It's silent and all Clary can hear is the sound of her heart beating and Jace’s heavy breathing.</p><p>"Go ahead," Jace groans. "Say it."</p><p>Clary turns her head to look at him and wonders if it’s better to rub it in his face or pity him but decide that there’s no harm in having a little dig at his ego.</p><p>"I told you so, you asshole," Clary grunts.</p><p>“Okay, that’s fair.” Jace hums in agreement before giving a soft chuckle, almost in disbelief, and Clary can't help but join in, too. "Thanks, by the way," he says after a while. "For killing that demon in the parking lot. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. Or…demonised, if you know what I mean."</p><p>"Yeah, well, I wasn’t just going to leave you to die." She replies, huffing slightly. "You didn't get scratched or bitten though, did you?” she asks him. “I don't have to hold you at gun point for you to show me?"</p><p>Jace shakes his head, grinning. "No, no bites or scratches. You?"</p><p>"I’m good," Clary tells him, taking in the sight of his grinning face.</p><p>"Good," he sighs in relief.</p><p>The car goes silent a number of minutes and the pair are content with falling asleep then and there but then Jace is speaking up again, rousing Clary from her sleepy haze.</p><p>"You know what?" Jace asks Clary rhetorically.</p><p>"Hm?" She lets out, raising her eyebrows.</p><p>"Maybe I was wrong," he says. "Maybe we do work better together.” He announces. “I used to think it was safer being on my own. Being on my own, I didn’t have to confront my fears or doubts when it came to other people.” He confides softly, contemplative in his admission. “Because of things that have happened in my past, I didn’t want to allow myself to become attached to anyone. But there’s something about this, about us, that just works.” Jace says, turning his head to gaze at Clary. “I’m glad you convinced to let you tag along,” he trails off, his voice going soft.</p><p>This marks the first time that Jace has opened up to Clary of his own accord. Clary can’t put it into words but she feels something between the two of them shift and she can't help but smile over at him. Jace quirks an eyebrow when he sees Clary’s lips curled back and watches as she bites her lips as if to hide her smile from him.</p><p>"I like us too." Clary says.</p><p>Jace smiles softly, gazing at her a moment longer before tearing his eyes from Clary and straightening up in his seat.</p><p>"Alright, well then..." He says, placing his hands on the steering wheel. “The sun is about to set and I think we’ve more than earned ourselves an early night, though with your permission, there is one more thing I’d like to show you before we leave town.”</p><p>"Please tell me it doesn’t involve any more shopping malls?" Clary asks him.</p><p>"No more malls, I promise." he says, chuckling. "You're in for a real treat this time."</p><p>“Alright then, buddy boy. Do your worst.” Clary smirks.</p><p>“Yes ma’am!” Jace salutes, shifting the truck into drive. He keeps his promise and they do not end up near any more shopping malls.</p>
<hr/><p>Instead, Jace drives the truck well out of the city and into the suburbs. Streets that start off built up soon become more spread out, the size of the house growing more and more the further from the city they go. They’re now so far out of the city that they’re passing houses that could only have been occupied by the rich and famous; they’re that huge. These, what can only be described as mansions, boast sprawling yards and the most intricate of landscaping designs. Clary likens their gardens to ones often adjourned by British and or French Aristocratic families of the early 18<sup>th</sup> Century; ostentatious to say the least. Clary tries and take in as much of the houses as she can; their varying shapes and sizes, as Jace continues to drive, his focus on the road, and notices that, although they’ve not escaped the impacts of the apocalypse, they’re all still fairly intact. Clary can only begin to wonder what secrets lay beyond their closed doors.</p><p>"Your pick," Jace says, pulling Clary from her wanderlust reverie. "Which house shall we crash in tonight?"</p><p>Clary grins up at him and then cranes her neck, looking around at the houses that line either side of the road. After a moment of contemplation, Clary settles at long last on one house, far in the distance, that is perhaps the most grande of all of them on that street and points to it.</p><p>"Any objections to that one?” Clary says, grinning. “What do you think?"</p><p>"I think you have excellent taste," Jace chuckles. "Wait until you see the inside."</p><p>After a few more minutes of driving along the lengthy stretch of road Jace pulls up to the driveway of the mansion Clary chose and parks the car, pocketing the keys once again. He hops out and makes his way round the front of the car to open Clary’s door. Clary swings her legs out, landing on her feet, Jace closing the car door behind her.</p><p>The both of them stand before the ornate front doors, slightly agog at the sheer scale of what was once someone’s home. If the house had seemed large at a distance, it was nothing to how foreboding it’s scale was up close. The front door is bolted shut with what appears to be a security system out of a spy movie; so many buttons! Knowing that neither of them will have much luck breaking the code, they decide to head around the back to see if they can make their way into the house through a door out back. From what Clary’s able to glimpse at through the gaps in the blinds that adorn the windows, she can see much of the décor comprises of either marble, white stained oak or glass.</p><p>Making their way around the back of the home, Clary and Jace come across a room that appears to have at one stage been a large open planned living area that leads out onto the open air deck that she and Jace now stand on. The back wall of the home is lined with floor to ceiling doors and windows and their only hope of getting in is in that one of the latches has been left off the hook. Jace steps forward and takes to pulling at the handle for the floor to ceiling bi-fold doors and, to his surprise, they give.</p><p>“Hey, come help me with this.” Jace beckons Clary over. “I think they’re probably intended to be opened with some flashy remote, but a bit of elbow grease should do the trick.”</p><p>Clary walks over to Jace and takes to pushing with all her might against the weight of the glass doors. They’re surprisingly difficult to push open, even with Jace’s strength, but eventually she and Jace manage to push them far enough away from the wall to create an opening big enough for the both of them to slip through.</p><p>Once inside, the both of them take a moment to marvel at the sheer opulence of the home. To say it’s spacious is an understatement; the size of kitchen and open planned living area alone would have rivalled the size of Clary’s entire loft home back in Brooklyn. The kitchen alone is decked out with all the latest gadgets and wizzbang tech that Clary’s left wondering if a Michelin Star adorned chef lived here.</p><p>Clary peers over into what looks like is a home theatre, with a gigantic TV and all manner of game consoles (she thinks Jace will be checking that room out later) before making her way out into the main foyer.</p><p>A large chandelier hangs from the high ceiling and Clary is met with a wrap around staircase that leads to the second floor and, as she cranes her neck, she see that there’s a third and fourth floor.</p><p>It takes Clary and Jace the better half of an hour to scour the home, being thorough in making sure that the two of them were the only ones there. In her search of the home Clary comes to the conclusion that the house had belonged to a family of six; two sons and two daughters and their parents. She can’t help but wonder where they are now and whether they’re safe but she knows that hoping that they are is merely wishful thinking.</p><p>It's much to Clary’s surprise that she finds the water still running throughout the house, though she suspects the home probably has access to it’s own private source of water and electricity. She’s equally, if not more so surprised, to find there’s still food lining the shelves of the kitchen’s walk-in pantry; a godsend given how low both she and Jace’s rations were running.</p><p>When she’s certain she’s discovered and explored every room in her wing of the home, Clary heads back down to the foyer, waiting for Jace to be done with his side of the home. She takes in the intricacies of the herringbone floor and the hand-painted mural lining the staircase wall before she hears Jace call out from somewhere on the floor above.</p><p>“Hey! I’m all done up here. I found a couple of bedrooms we could use to sleep in tonight and there’s some pretty fancy bathrooms up here too.” He says, raking his hands through his mussed up hair. “Might be an idea to clean ourselves off before scrounging up something to eat.”</p><p>Clary’s knees practically go weak at the thought of a hot shower or long soak in a bathtub. Not wanting to waste another minute, Clary makes her way up to where Jace is standing on the third floor, bounding up the staircase two steps at a time.</p><p>“Jeez, someone’s keen.” Jace says as she makes it to the third floor landing, slightly out of breath.</p><p>“Ugh I can’t wait to clean out the muck from under my fingernails.” Clary says, showing Jace the grime that’s begun the build up under them, much to his dismay. “Being a girl in an apocalypse is not fun.” She adds, pouting.</p><p>“Yeah? Well… being a guy living in a post apocalyptic world has its fair share of complications too.” Jace adds to her previous comment.</p><p>“Do I even want to know what you’re insinuating?” Clary scoffs, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“Probably not.” Jace replies, smirking.</p><p>“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Clary scrunches up her nose in mock disgust. “Alright well, you go do your thing and I’ll do mine. Meet back in the home theatre once we’re done?”</p><p>“Sounds good to me. See you in a bit.” Jace says, waving Clary off as he heads down a hallway to his left.</p><p>Clary takes the hallway on the right and heads into what appears to have been one of the girls rooms. It’s decorated in a way that makes Clary think she and the girl who lived might’ve been friends, had the world been a different place. Fairy lights were wired around the four poster bed and there much too many cushions for anyone to possibly ever be able to sleep, but it was cozy, and that was something Clary really missed.</p><p>Not wishing to dwell on things she’s unable to change, Clary makes her way to the ensuite bathroom just off the bedroom. Much like the bedroom, the bathroom was also to her taste. A huge soaker tub took up the entirety of one corner of the bathroom, the other, housed a walk-in shower with a rain-shower head, a double vanity and a separate dressing table. As enticing as the soaker tub does look, Clary decides instead to have a shower, thinking it’ll provide a better chance of ridding her body of all the caked up blood, dirt, and grime upon it. Clary takes to shampooing her red hair three times and leaves in the conditioner while she scrubs away the layers of dead skin that have built up over the past few weeks. When she’s certain she has scrubbed her skin red raw, she begrudgingly pulls herself from the warmth of the water, leaving her now tingling skin open to the elements. Seeing that there’s a pile of fluffy white towels that remain untouched in the cupboard under the sink, Clary allows herself the pleasure of pampering herself by wiping her body down, trying to remember the last time she’d had such luxury. Probably not since the initial outbreak, and that was over a year ago. In the time that’s passed, Clary has learnt to come to appreciate life’s simple pleasures, this moment now being one of them. Once dry, Clary wraps her small frame in another of the white towels and heads back into the bedroom, hopeful she might find some new clothes to wear. She’s successful; managing to find clean underwear, a new pair of jeans and an unworn hoodie. Satisfied with her finds, Clary takes off out of the bedroom and out into the hallway.</p><p>Assuming that Jace is either still in the shower or already waiting for her on the ground floor, Clary makes her way down the winding staircase and into the kitchen, enjoying how the plush carpet feels beneath her now clean toes.</p><p>Making her way out of the foyer and down the hallway that leads into the open plan kitchen and living area, Clary peers her head into the kitchen. She’d been expecting to find Jace already waiting for her but is left surprised in the fact that she made it out of the shower before him. She decides to poke around the room while she waits for Jace to join her.</p><p>As per her first impression, the open plan kitchen and living area must’ve been the heart of the home. Despite the meticulous layout and cleanliness of the space, Clary can tell that the home was well lived in. Family photos and memorabilia line the walls of the living room and there’s an entire shelf dedicated to home movies in the home theatre. She doesn’t know why, but seeing these things, moments captured in time for a family she never even knew, causes an ache to settle in Clary’s heart. She suddenly finds herself missing what she no longer has and that which she most wants.</p><p>Among the shelves lined with all manner of DVD, game and video, Clary finds an inbuilt record player and an extensive collection of vinyls. Whoever did live here, had impeccable taste; some of her favourite artists being amongst the stack of vinyl records lining the shelf. Clary thinks that perhaps a little music might help to ease the aching feeling in her chest. She decides that she’s in the mood for some classics. Skimming her fingers over the records, she stops when her finger comes across a cover for ‘Frank Sinatra’. A sad smile crosses her face; she remembers how she would listen to Frank Sinatra’s music with Simon as the two of them lay on the grass upon the hill of their little hideaway. He’d sometimes bring his guitar and strum along to the songs, singing the lyrics softly.</p><p>Clary pulls the record off the shelf, taking care with the record as she places it onto the turntable. She places the tone-arm onto the spindle and presses the power button followed by the play button. To Clary’s dismay, the owners of the home have somehow linked the record player to the Bluetooth surround sound speakers, meaning that the music can be heard throughout the entirety of the home. Clary’s grateful that the sound of the music isn’t particularly loud, so as to not alert any demons or fellow stragglers, but she makes to adjust the volume so that it’s still be loud enough to be enjoyed from the upper levels of the home.</p><p>Frank Sinatra’s ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ begins to play and Clary subconsciously sways along to the music, tears brimming from her tired eyes. It’s in this moment that she realises just how much she misses Simon. His absence over the past twelve months has been the hardest thing to cope with out of everything that the apocalypse has thrown at her. Even more so than losing her mum, and that had torn her apart. There was a time where Clary hadn’t thought she could get through without him but she quickly realised it was kill or be killed, and so she’d vowed to do whatever it was she had to in order to find him.</p><p>Clary sobs to herself, listening to each individual track of the record as she waits for Jace to join her, no doubt only to find her in a heap on the floor, emotion and exhaustion having overcome her.</p><p>As if summoned, it’s at that moment that Jace enters the home theatre, watching Clary sway to the music, noticing the racks to her frame her sobs cause.</p><p>"Hey, you,” Jace lets out softly, his voice barely discernable over the music playing over the speakers.</p><p>Despite the soft tone of his voice, Clary finds herself startled.</p><p>Clary wipes at her face, ridding it of any stray tears and whips her head around to see Jace leaning against the doorframe, his still damp blonde hair hanging across his forehead and in his doe like golden eyes. Like Clary, it seems he’s managed to procure a change of clothes, his body now adorning a pair of grey sweat pants and matching sweater. Clary wonders how long he’s been standing there watching her, but don’t dare ask, fearful that if she does, her voice will crack.</p><p>“Frank Sinatra, huh?” Jace says as he propels himself off the doorframe, making his way over to Clary. “That man’s voice can make most grown men cry, so I get you.” Jace says, hinting at the wetness of her eyelashes. “If you really feel like letting things out though, I think this’ll help.”</p><p>He pushes back the hair that had begun to dry to his face, withdrawing his hand from behind his back to show Clary the bottle of red wine he was holding.</p><p>Clary takes in Jace’s somewhat forlorn expression as he stands before her. He’s clearly noted the redness of her nose and puffiness of her eyes and while she hopes he doesn’t ask what’s wrong, Clary is left feeling amazed at how Jace seems to know just what it is she needs.</p><p>Clary reaches for the bottle of wine in Jace’s hand, her fingers brushing against his as he passes it to her. A zap of electricity passes between them at the unexpected skin upon skin contact. Clary’s eyes meet with Jace’s and it’s like time has become frozen in place, save for the two of them and the record playing in the background.</p><p>In one stride, Jace closes the gap between the two of them. He stands close enough that Clary’s nose catches hints of his shampoo and the scent of the fabric softener of his sweater.</p><p>“Dance with me?” Jace asks you, his voice a soft whisper.</p><p>He offers Clary his hand, and she finds herself drawn to him, the touch of his flesh upon hers. Without hesitation, Clary places her hand in his and he pulls her into him, laying his hands on the curve of her back. As the two of them move to the music, passing the bottle of wine between them, Clary becomes acutely aware of just how much the man standing before her makes her heart beat fast. Wanting to feel the warmth of his flesh, Clary takes to wrapping her arms around Jace’s slender waist, her head coming to rest upon his chest, taking note of how his heart stammers within it.</p><p>The two of them stay like this for some time, no words passing from either of their lips as they take one another in, the music from the record being the only thing keeping either of them grounded to reality.</p><p>After what must be a good 20 minutes of this, Clary speaks.</p><p>“Where’d you get those tattoos? The ones on your neck.” Clary asks, startling Jace. “I mean…” she says, pulling herself away from his chest to look up at him. “They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”</p><p>Jace pulls away from Clary, taking her in, noticing the expectant look upon her face. He sighs, closing his eyes as if to suppress something from his minds eye. He drops his arms from where they’d been clasped around Clary’s lower back. The absence of his warmth becomes apparent in the way her body shudders.</p><p>“What? You don’t want to talk about it?” Clary lets out after Jace falls silent, his arms hanging heavy by his sides.</p><p>Jace shakes his head.</p><p>“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t talk about our past?” He responds, his voice lacking any warmth.</p><p>“I can’t live like that.” Clary says, shaking her head. “I can’t be with you, on this journey together, and not know anything about you, Jace. Talk to me, let me in.”</p><p>Jace considers her for a moment before walking over to the couch and plonking himself down, his arm coming to rest over his eyes. Clary follows suit and joins him on the couch, the plush pillows engulfing her small frame. Clary sits beside Jace, watching his chest rise and fall.</p><p>“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jace lets out, before starting his narrative.</p><p>“I never knew my mother; she died when I was a baby, at least as far as I know that’s what happened to her.” Jace reveals, his arm still covering his eyes. “After the death of my mother, I was taken by my father and raised, if you can call it that, in a small country called Idris.” Jace reveals, his arm still covering his eyes.</p><p>“Idris? Where is that? I’ve never heard of it.” Clary interrupts.</p><p>“Idris? It’s a small country located between Germany, France, and Switzerland. Because of the wardings placed around all of its borders, mundanes who come close to crossing into it are instantly transported through to the other side of the barrier. Hardly any mundanes know about it.”</p><p>Clary shook her head, not understanding anything of what Jace had just said.</p><p>‘<em>Wards? Mundanes? What is he talking about?’</em></p><p>“My upbringing was both loving and harsh; my father, rather than love me as a child, as his son, trained me as a warrior. He raised me strictly and wasn’t one to shy away from beating me if I didn’t live up to his expectations.” Jace grimaces. “But he also treated me with some level of kindness. He insisted that I learnt to play an instrument, teaching me himself how to play the piano. I learnt other languages and became well versed in literature and mathematics. Despite my extremely disciplined upbringing, there were times when I believed my father loved me for how a father should love his son, especially when it was my birthday because he would always let me do or have what I wanted: horses, weapons, books, and even a bath in spaghetti on my fifth birthday.” Jace chuckles softly at the memory of it.</p><p>“On days like that, I thought my father truly loved me, but I was wrong. My father was incapable of love. He instilled in me that "to love is to destroy and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed”. He taught me this by giving me a wild falcon to train when I was six, intending it to be a hunting companion.</p><p>I struggled to do this. I mean, come on, I was six.” Jace says, his voice frustrated. “The falcon didn’t like me, and for what it was worth, I didn’t like it either. Its sharp beak made me nervous, and its bright eyes always seemed to be watching me, always. It would slash at me with its beak and talons when I tried to get close to it. For weeks my wrists and hands were always bleeding. I didn’t know it at the time, but my father had selected a falcon that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus it was nearly impossible to tame. But I tried, because my father told me to make the falcon obedient, and all I ever wanted was to please my father.</p><p>I can remember I stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. Over time I willed it to trust me. I began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that it was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. After some time, the bird would hop to my shoulder and put its beak in my hair. I knew my falcon loved me, and when I was certain it was perfectly tamed, I went to my father and showed him what I had done, expecting him to be proud.” Jace says, lifting his arm off his face to look at Clary.</p><p>“Instead my father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and snapped its neck. ‘I told you to make it obedient,’ I remember him saying as he’d dropped the falcon’s lifeless body to the ground. ‘Instead, you taught it to love you. This bird was not tamed; it was broken.’”</p><p>Clary gasps, her hands coming to cover her mouth in an attempt to quell the sound of horror that made to escape her lips.</p><p>Jace inhales sharply before continuing, his head coming to rest on the back of the couch as he continued to look at Clary.<br/>
<br/>
“Later, when my father had left me, I cried, until eventually a servant had to be sent to take the body of the bird away and bury it. After that night, I never cried again, and I never forgot what I’d learned: that to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.”</p><p>Clary stares at him, speechless, and feels tears beginning to form in her eyes. The horror of what he’s telling her, of his past reality, too much for her to bear.</p><p>“Following that night, life went on much the same as it had done years before, until one day when I was ten, when my father was killed. I watched him die, saw the light leave his eyes. He was murdered in cold blood.” With no one left to turn to and nowhere else to go, I was sent to Alicante, the capital city of Idris where I was taken in by the Lightwood’s. Robert and Maryse raised me along side their own children, Alec and Isabelle, and later on, Max. They treated me like a true son, but I always knew that I wasn’t their son, that I never could be.”</p><p>Tears now trail down Clary’s cheeks as her heart aches for the boy beside her. She’s unable to fathom how a then ten-year-old boy, who’d experienced hell on earth at the hands of his own father, could grow into the man before her, hell on earth having found him again.</p><p>Jace takes his free hand and dabs at the tears brimming from Clary’s eyes, desperate to ease her pain. He pulls her into him, his chin resting atop of her head, her tears now staining his sweater.</p><p>“It’s not all bad.” Jace says, doing his best to reassure Clary. “I had Isabelle and Alec,” Jace pauses before adding, “And now I have you.” Jace says, his eyes now fixed on Clary who had lifted her head from his chest.</p><p>Under the intensity of his gaze Clary suddenly becomes hyper aware of how close his body is to hers; the air between them abuzz with an unspoken tension. She wants to comfort him, to hold him close, to feel his hands on her all-too-hot skin. Clary makes to pull away, to extinguish whatever flame had started to burn in the pit of her stomach, but as she does, Jace’s hand takes a hold of Clary’s wrist.</p><p>“Jace…” Clary trails off, her heart stammering within her chest.</p><p>“Don’t. Don’t fight it.” Jace says, his voice husky, his eyes hooded with an insatiable need.</p><p>And then he’s kissing her.</p><p>He’s kissing her, all at once and without any warning. His lips are chapped but the movements of them upon her own are gentle, soft, treating with such fragility. His hands come to cup Clary’s face gently and despite the strength Clary knows they hold, she can feel them trembling.</p><p>Clary pulls away from the kiss, separating her lips from his, Jace dropping his hands into his lap. She takes him in; tousled blonde locks adorning his head, his bedroom eyes and the way his parted pink lips glisten with traces of her. Jace doesn’t say anything, but Clary can see he craves more, his face flushed. Clary herself finds that she wants more; to explore that mouth of his and to unravel the growing knot in the pit of her stomach.</p><p>Clary leans forward towards him again, raking her hands through his still damp hair, and plants her lips on his once more. Jace doesn’t hesitate to leans into the kiss, pushing Clary’s back into the soft cushions of the couch, his hands resting on either side of her slender hips. Clary can taste the sweet wine that stains his mouth as Jace’s tongue laves at her lower lip, begging that she part her mouth to allow him entrance. Clary is more than happy to oblige him, sighing in delight as she feels his tongue on hers.</p><p>The moment their tongues come together, the heat of the situation intensifies. Jace moves his hands to wrap around Clary’s lower back, pulling her closer to him with bone crushing force. Clary’s fingers entwine themselves in locks of Jace’s hair as the kiss deepens into something more animalistic.</p><p>Clary’s hands grip at Jace’s shoulders and then she’s pushing him back until he's sitting back on the couch behind him and, in her haste, she awkwardly sits on his lap, straddling one of his thighs between her legs. The kiss only hardens as the two mould into one another, clinging to each other as if their lives depend on it.</p><p>"Should we be doing this?" Clary asks silently, her lips brushing against his. "What if more demons come?"</p><p>Jace doesn't reply at first, parting from her lips to dust open-mouthed kisses along Clary’s jaw and neck. He stops at one spot above her jugular, his tongue laving at the sensitive skin and making her gasp. Clary can feel the heat burning between her legs at her core, the coil in her stomach tightening and loosening with each passing second.</p><p>Jace feels Clary tremble, but despite the shiver in her body, her dark green eyes challenge him. The adrenaline in his blood, mixed with desire and the recklessness of despair, makes his blood sing. Half of him is convinced she will push him away. The other half is too full of Clary; her nearness, the feel of her against him.</p><p>“If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispers, and when she says nothing, he brushes his lips against her clavicle. “Or now.” His mouth finds her cheek, the line of her jaw: he tastes her skin, sweet-salty, dust and desire. “Or now.” His mouth traces the line of her jaw and she arches up into him, making his fingers dig into the couch. Clary’s small, panting breaths were driving Jace crazy, and he put his mouth over hers to quiet her, whispering, telling, not asking: “Now.”</p><p>And then he is back to kissing her. Gently at first, testing, but suddenly her hands are fists in his hair, and her softness is pressed against his chest and Jace feels all previous cautions towards Clary give way under him as he begins to let intoxication come over him. He is kissing her with a wild and total abandon, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth to duel with hers, and she is just as bold as he is, tasting him, exploring his mouth. He reaches for the edge of her hoodie just as she bites lightly at his lower lip, causing his whole body to jerk.</p><p>Clary puts her hands over his, and for a moment he’s afraid she will to tell him to stop, that this was insane, that they’d both hate themselves tomorrow.</p><p>“Let me,” she says instead, causing Jace to go still as she calmly pulls her hoodie over her head. The shirt she wears underneath is nearly sheer, accentuating the shape of her body; the curves of her breasts, the indentation of her waist, the flare of her hips. Jace feels dizzy. He’d seen this much of other girls before, of course he had, but the sight of them had never filled him with such desire as the sight of Clary before him does.</p><p>Clary lifts her arms up, her head thrown back, pleading in her eyes. “Kiss me,” she whispers. “Kiss me again.”</p><p>Jace makes a noise he didn’t think he’d ever made before and falls back against her, into her, kissing her eyelids, lips, throat, the pulse there — his hands slide under Clary’s flimsy shirt and onto the heat of her skin. He is pretty sure all the blood has left his brain as he fumbles at the clasp of her bra, which is ridiculous, what is the point of being a Shadowhunter and expert at everything if he can’t figure out the clasp on a bra? A moment later Jace hears his own soft exhalation as it comes free and his hands are on Clary’s bare back, the fragile shape of her shoulder blades under his palms.</p><p>Somehow the little noise she makes is more erotic than seeing anyone else naked had ever been.</p><p>Clary’s hands, small and determined, find the hem of Jace’s shirt, making to tug it off. Jace pushes Clary’s shirt up, around her ribs, wanting more of their skin to be touching. <em>‘So this is the difference’</em>, he thought. ‘<em>This is what falling in love feels like’</em>. Jace has always prided himself on his technique, on having control, on the response he could elicit. But that required evaluation, and evaluation required distance, and there was no distance now. He wanted nothing between himself and Clary.</p><p>Jace’s hands find the waistband of Clary’s newly found jeans, the shape of her hipbones. He feels Clary’s fingers on his bare back, her fingertips finding his scars and tracing them lightly. He isn’t sure she knows she is doing it, but she definitely knew she was rolling her hips against his, making him shaky, making him want to go too fast.</p><p>Jace reaches down and fits Clary more firmly against him, aligning her hips with his, feeling her gasp into his mouth. He thinks she might pull away, but she instead slings her leg over his hip, pulling him even closer. For a second, he thinks he might pass out.</p><p>“Jace,” Clary whispers. She kisses his neck, his collarbone. His hands come to rest on her waist, moving up over her ribcage. Clary’s skin is amazingly soft. Clary raises herself up as Jace slips his hands under her bra, taking to kiss the star-shaped mark on his shoulder. Jace is just about to ask Clary if what he is doing was all right when she draws back from him sharply, with an exclamation of surprise.</p><p>“Oh!” Clary exclaims, feeling the bulge in Jace’s pants brush against her thigh as she catches his lips on hers.</p><p>Jace smirks against Clary’s neck and she shivers at his touch. His teeth suddenly sink into her skin and a soft moan slips past her lips that excites Jace even more.</p><p>"I didn't know you were this eager for me." Clary remarks.</p><p>Jace groans against her mouth and shrugs, completely shameless. “It’s a little unfair really,” he says, breathlessly, “that you can tell how much I want this just by looking at me but I can’t tell the same thing about you.”</p><p>Clary shifts above him. Their bodies scrape together causing Jace’s pulse to jump, his hands digging into the cushions on either side of Clary. “Look at me,” she says.</p><p>Jace’s eyes are half-lidded; he opens them wide now, taking to stare at Clary. There was hunger in his, a hot devouring hunger that would have frightened her if it had been anyone else but Jace.</p><p>But it was Jace, and for whatever innate reason, Clary trusted him. “Look at me,” Clary says again, as his eyes raked over her, swallowing hard. Clary felt as if burning liquid were surging through her body everywhere that Jace’s gaze touched. Jace drags his eyes back up to Clary’s face; they fix on her mouth. “I do want you,” Clary says. “I don’t know why, but I do.” Clary kisses him, slow and hard. “I want to, if you do.”</p><p>His mouth suddenly attaches to her neck again, nipping and sucking on the delicate area.</p><p>“If I want to?” There is a wild edge to his soft laugh. Clary can hear the raggedness of Jace’s breath, see the hesitation in his eyes, the underlying concern for her. Clary lifts herself up and wraps her legs around his hips, straddling him. Jace presses his hot face into her throat, his breath ragged. “If you do that — I won’t be able to stop —“</p><p>“Don’t stop, I don’t want you to stop,” Clary says, tightening her grip on him, and with a growl he takes her mouth again, hot and demanding, sucking her lower lip into his mouth, his tongue sliding against hers. Clary had never been kissed like this before, not even by Simon. Jace’s tongue explores her mouth before he moves down her throat; Clary feels wet heat at the hollow of her collarbone and almost screams. She grabs at Jace instead, running her hands all over his body, wildly free in the knowledge that she can touch him, as much as she likes, however she likes. She feels as if she is drawing him, her hands mapping his shape, the slope of his back, flat stomach, the indentations above his hips, the muscles in his arms. As if, like a painting, he was coming to life underneath her hands.</p><p>When his hands slide underneath her bra to cup her breasts, Clary gasps at the sensation, then nods at him when he freezes, his eyes questioning. </p><p><em>“</em>Go on.” Clary urges him.</p><p>Jace unsnaps her bra, watching it fall open and for a moment he just freezes, staring at her as if she were shining like starlight. He then bends his head again and the feel of his mouth on Clary’s bare breasts makes her scream. She clamps a hand over her mouth, but he reaches up and pries it away.</p><p>“I want to hear you,” Jace says, and it isn’t a demand, but a low, prayerful yearning. Clary nods and buries her hands in Jace’s still damp hair.</p><p>Jace kisses her shoulders and her breasts, her stomach, her hips; he kisses her everywhere while she gasps and moves against him in ways that made him moan and beg her to stop or it would all be over too soon. She laughs through her gasps, telling him to go on, trying to hold herself still but it was impossible.</p><p>Jace stops before removing each piece of clothing from either of them, asking her with eyes and words if he should keep going, and each time Clary nods and says ‘yes, go on, yes’. </p><p>When finally there is nothing between them but skin, Clary stills her hands, thinking that there is no way to ever be closer to another person than this, that to take another step would be like cracking open her chest and exposing her heart.</p><p>Clary feels Jace’s muscles flex as he reaches his hand up to brush at her cheek.</p><p>“Are you sure you want to do this?” he says, his voice unsteady.</p><p>His words make her heart lurch and Clary can't help it when his name tumbles from her lips in a desperate groan, her fingers tugging tightly at his hair. She can't help it when her hips press down onto his thigh, her core desperate to feel some sort of friction as it throbs, almost cries for attention.</p><p>"Jace.”</p><p>Clary presses her hips harder against his thigh and huffs his name in a silent whisper, shutting her eyes as the pleasure suddenly courses through her. Jace’s mouth continues to hungrily ravish your throat and you crane your neck to allow him more access. Clary starts to slowly grind against his thigh to relieve the pressure in her core. She maintains a steady pace, slowly rocking against his thigh and sighing in delight at the pleasure she has been denied for so long. All of a sudden Clary decides she needs to feel him inside her, or else she’s certain she’ll explode.</p><p>Jace hums against her neck, kissing her skin and sucking on her lower lip. Clary peels open her eyes to watch Jace who's leaning back against the cushions of the couch, watching her with hooded eyes and gnawing down hard on his lower lip. His eyes drift down to her chest and he can't help but reach out to cup her breasts with his hands, his calloused thumb swiping once across her perked bud.</p><p>"You're so beautiful," Jace sighs. "My God, you're beautiful."</p><p>Clary reddens, earning a smirk from him as he leans forward to peck a kiss along her collarbones and down to her chest.</p><p>"You're just saying that," Clary manages to choke out.</p><p>"It’s the truth," Jace rebuts.</p><p>Embarrassed at Jace’s unabashed honesty, Clary feels the want to reply back with something sarcastic or snarky but the look upon Jace’s face tells her that he is being sincere.</p><p>All of a sudden the ecstasy she feels as she continues to rock against his thigh is too much. He flexes his muscle, suddenly adding to the feeling, causing Clary to moan out his name.</p><p>"Keep touching me, Jace," Clary begs. "Please keep touching me.”</p><p>As it is, Jace doesn't have plans on stopping and, as far as he is concerned, the both of them in that grand empty mansion makes it feel as if they are the only ones left in the world, leaving him with all the time he needs to completely ravish and explore Clary’s body. His mouth closes around one of her pink nipples and she gasps, feeling his tongue swirl around the bud. His other hand massages her other breast gently, his thumb and forefinger pinching at it in just the right way that causes her to arch her chest into him.</p><p>Clary’s breathing is hard and fast, her chest heaving and falling rapidly. Her hand comes to reach between their warm bodies, her fingers brushing against his straining member once more and he freezes, his breath hitching in his throat. She doesn't stop there, adding more pressure as she begins to palm his exposed flesh. He moans suddenly into her chest, accidentally biting down on her nipple as the pleasure suddenly hits him. Clary cries out in response.</p><p>Jace stills, removing his mouth from Clary’s breast. She can see that he is tense and shaking, with anticipation, the pupils of his eyes wide, the iris just a rim of gold. “Did I hurt you?”</p><p>“No, I’m fine, I promise.” Clary reassures him. “I don’t want you to stop.”</p><p>After a moment, Jace pulls back from her chest and his head lolls onto the back of the couch, his face scrunched up in pure delight.</p><p>"Clary…" he breathes out. "I don’t think I can last much longer."</p><p>The noises he makes only spurs Clary on and soon she’s quickening her pace in both palming him and rocking against his muscled thigh. It takes all her strength not to climax then and there but soon the pleasure gets too much and she finds herself aching for release. Jace watches her with lust infused eyes, slipping his hand down past her breasts to press against her clitoris. Clary gasps at the added pressure and moans, quickly crumbling to a frantic mess as she seeks relief.</p><p>Clary whines as she feels herself losing control, Jace’s fingers rubbing against her clitoris, letting her feel just how wet she is for Jace as he works in time with her pace. Jace pushes himself forward once more, his arms wrapping around Clary’s back as he holds her close to him, his mouth reconnecting with hers. Clary’s hands abandon Jace’s length to grip at his shoulders, her chest pressed flush against his. He begins whispering sweet nothings against her mouth between each kiss, gently bringing her to her climax until it violently rips through her and has her convulsing against him. Clary climaxes so suddenly, so aggressively, that she’s unable to contain her scream, profanities falling from her lips, stars forming in her eyes. Her hips buck against Jace’s thigh, his grip on her waist rocking her against his thigh.</p><p>"Jace…" Clary sobs.</p><p>After a few moments, Clary slumps against Jace’s chest, panting. When her heart is at a somewhat steady rate once more, Clary takes to kissing lazily at Jace’s neck. Before he can do anything, Clary’s pulling back and kissing his lips once more.</p><p>Jace relishes at the feel of Clary’s lips upon his own, but like her, wants more, <em>needs</em> more. He moves to switch places with her, Clary now pressed into the cushions of the couch, Jace hovering above her.</p><p>Clary takes Jace in, a soft haze settling upon her. She runs her fingers up and down his torso before coming to rest her hand over his heart. Despite himself, Jace can’t help but to eye Clary hungrily. Beneath him, Clary appears small and delicate, something to be cherished. His eyes meet with hers, a soft smirk upon his lips.</p><p>"What is it?" Clary asks, her eyebrow quirked.</p><p>"Nothing," he sighs, placing his hands on her hips, bringing her closer to him. He presses his lips against her stomach gently and she can feel her heart flutter in her chest as he whispers against her skin, "You're just really beautiful."</p><p>Clary pushes Jace’s head away, flustered, but he only finds her reaction endearing, Kissing her lips one last time, Jace makes to stand before her, in his unabashed naked glory.</p><p>To Clary, Jace seems to have been sculpted by the Gods themselves. Jace’s face was incredibly handsome but his body, so perfectly chiselled, was enough to rival that of Hercules. His skin, smooth as marble, was marked all over with various inky black tattoos, the likes of which Clary anticipated getting to explore. He’s well endowed, much more so than Clary thought, his tip an angry red, leaking with pre-cum. The sight of him, standing before her, makes her quiver with excitement.</p><p>Jace leans back down towards where Clary lies sprawled back against the couch, his erection brushing the inside of her thighs as he does so. Instinctively, Clary lifts her hips to meet his, taking to gently guiding his tip to the entrance of her core. As soon as his tip makes contact with her swollen lips, they both gasp.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Jace asks, his brow furrowed, sweat beginning to form upon it.</p><p>Hearing Jace sound uncertain — Clary realises that Jace was showing her a side of himself she hadn’t seen before; vulnerability, both emotional and physical.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Clary whispers. “Just — kiss me,” she pleads, and so Jace does; not moving to do anything else, just kissing her: hot languorous slow kisses that speed up as his heartbeat does, their bodies so close to being as one.</p><p>Each kiss Jace plants upon Clary’s lips, her body, is different; quick soft kisses that told her he was comfortable being with her, long slow worshipful kisses that said that he trusted her, playful light kisses that said that he still had hope, adoring kisses that said he had faith in her as he did in no one else.</p><p>Clary abandons herself to the kisses, the language of them, the wordless speech that passes between herself and Jace. She can feels Jace’s hands shaking, but despite his obvious nervousness, his hands are quick and skilled on her body, light touches making her want more and more until she pushes and pulls at him, urging him against her with the mute appeal of fingers and lips and hands.</p><p>Clary grips Jace’s shoulders tightly, biting down hard on her lower lip to contain her mewls of pleasure as Jace slowly, inch by inch, slides his length to sit within her. Jace isn’t even halfway within her when Clary huffs, her head lolling back, her eyes squeezing shut.</p><p>"Clary…" Jace grunts, struggling to maintain control. "I want to move..."</p><p>Jace’s words make Clary’s core flex around him and he hisses at the feeling, taking deep shuddering breaths. He continues to slide his length into her until he comes to rest hilt deep within her core and the two of them are connected as one. Feeling him, rock hard and pulsating, buried deep inside her makes Clary squirm, the feeling of him, as he stretches her out, both painful and beyond pleasurable.</p><p>“Jace,” Clary whispers, as he gazes down at her beneath him, bending his head to kiss her as he carefully, carefully starts to move. She can see in the tension of his body, feel in his grip on her shoulder, that he doesn’t want it to be over too quickly: he closed his eyes, his lips moving, silently shaping her name.</p><p>“Clary…” Jace rasps, over and over, his chest heaving as his hips move slowly against hers.</p><p>"Jace… Ugh…” Clary whines, her fingers digging desperately into his shoulders. "J-Jace, I need to move, please."</p><p>Jace nods, his brow beaded with sweat, the muscles in his arms flexed as he supports his weight above her.</p><p>Clary reaches her head up to graze her lips against Jace’s, taking to swivelling her hips around him while rocking back and forth at a slow pace so that she can relish in the feeling of him for as long as possible. Her mouth falls open and she cries out as the tip of his cock hits a spot inside of her that makes her writhe against him. Clary grips his shoulders tightly, lifting her hips and dropping them slowly, moaning each time her hips make contact with his.</p><p>Jace groans at the feeling of it.</p><p>Clary gasps for air as her core throbs around him. Reaching her ups arm, Clary wraps them around Jace’s neck as he sets an even pace, her fingers tugging at his golden hair.</p><p>Jace buries his face in the crook of Clary’s neck and pulls himself out of her in one slow, languid movement, causing an audible gasp to tear from Clary’s throat. As soon as his tip is the only thing remaining, he slams himself back into her, roughly pushing her back against the pillows of the couch.</p><p>"Jesus, Jace!" You sob. "Oh my god, yes..."</p><p>Jace keeps at his carnal pace, adding more force with each thrust, soon abandoning his slow and languid thrusts for something quicker, faster, but all the while still hard. Clary’s propped legs spread further apart to let him sink even deeper into her; she’s desperate for more as she wraps her legs around his lower back. The heels of Clary’s feet dig into Jace’s back, gently pushing him further into her depths each time he thrusts his hips. Her hands fumble eagerly for his face, pushing his head to hers so that she can kiss him hard and fast and moan into his mouth.</p><p>Clary feels another orgasm approaching rapidly but hopes she can withstand Jace’s punishing rhythm, wanting to bask in the feeling of him mercilessly drilling her harder into the couch. She bites down onto his lower lip as if to distract herself from releasing too soon, causing him to smirk against her faintly.</p><p>"Don’t fight it, Clary," Jace huffs. "I feel it too."</p><p>Jace moans into the crook of Clary’s neck, his arms burning at having to hold himself up. He takes to pounding into her harder than before, so much so that it nearly knocks the breath out of Clary’s lungs. Clary’s fingers dig into Jace’s shoulder blades, coming to run up and down his back, breaking his skin to form thin red lines. He hisses at the feeling but it doesn't hurt, not when he's too consumed by everything that Clary is making him feel. He drives himself into her until all either of them can hear is the sound of one another’s moans mingled with skin against skin and the lewd wet sounds as he pumps himself in and out of her.</p><p>Clary’s vision blurs with tears as soon as Jace presses his fingers against her clitoris once more, rubbing harsh circles against the delicate flesh. Clary sobs, writhing against him as the pleasure takes over all her senses. All Clary is capable of formulating in her mind is that being with Jace, in such a way, is like nothing she’s ever experienced before. It’s like her soul has been set on fire.</p><p>Clary can't hold off any longer, feeing the waves of pleasure from her release wash over her, as the coil in her stomach breaks with a snap.</p><p>"Jace!” She screams. "J-Ja-"</p><p>Clary’s voice cuts off into a croak and then a loud moan as her high suddenly hits her yet again. Tears fall from her dark green eyes, her body jolting as Jace pumps in and out of her, as she rides out her orgasm, Jace drilling into her faster and harder, his heart hammering dangerously in his chest. The way Clary twists and tums beneath him, her face scrunching up in pleasure, her fingers scratching harder down his back as she moans, cries out and screams his name and the way her core flexes around him pushing him to his limits.</p><p>Clary comes down from her high, still sobbing Jace’s name in a beautiful mantra, her spent figure laying limp for him to ravish, the oversensitivity she feels is almost unbearable. Wanting Jace to feel even a fraction as good as he made her feel, Clary pushes her hips forward, bucking into him to help him to his high. Jace, having reached his limit, cums not soon after, his hot seed releasing into Clary in waves that make her gasp and groan. Jace cries her name as he bucks himself in and out of her until he is utterly spent. Exhausted, Jace slumps against Clary’s chest, panting and struggling to catch his breath, his body coated in a sheen of sweat.</p><p>It's silent, and Clary and Jace bask in the afterglow of sex, the blinding white light that leaves them both at peace and at ease. After having regained some of his strength, Jace pulls out of Clary and she can feel both his and her own remnants as they leak onto her milky white thighs, shivering at the slightest touch.</p><p>Clary is still gasping for air when Jace kisses her face all over before standing up, throwing on his sweat pants, disappearing down the hall. He comes back a moment later with a clean rag and joins Clary’s side, gently wiping at her core to clean away the cum that has leaked from her entrance. Clary’s heart swells at his sudden soft touches and the way he carefully helps her into his oversized sweat shirt.</p><p>"Jace," Clary calls his name in a quiet whisper, and he turns to look at her, a soft smile on her face. "Come here."</p><p>A small grin tugs at his face as Jace allows Clary to pull at him until he’s lying down beside her. Something instinctive within her makes Clary curl up into Jace’s warm body. He kisses the top of her head and she sighs as her fingers trace patterns onto his skin.</p><p>"I will protect you with my life, Clary. I hope you know that." Jace says, his voice husky.</p><p>"And I’ll protect you with mine," Clary echos in response, her voice fired. "I will. But for now… I’m just so tired.”</p><p>"Then, sleep," Jace whispers, rubbing tiny circles into herr hips. "We'll start moving again tomorrow, okay?"</p><p>Clary mumbles something but Jace doesn’t quite catch it, sleep soon overcoming her, her head nuzzled into Jace’s chest. Jace does not find sleep so easily. He takes to watching Clary’s sleeping figure as his hand rubs up and down her bare back lightly, wondering how on earth he was lucky enough to have come across someone as wonderful as Clary amidst such trying times.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The summer before the demonic plague outbreak and when the war began was a time of Clary’s life she reflects on fondly.</p>
<p>With the world slowly spiralling into chaos, Simon was the only thing keeping her grounded.</p>
<p>Despite strict curfews that forced others inside and the outskirts of the safety zones being laced with infected, Clary’s relationship with Simon never wavered. When she thought back to their moments together, she often wondered if the reason Simon went out of his way to make sure she was always smiling was because he had already thought about, already known, that he wanted to break up with her and was simply trying to bask in her happiness for as long as he could.</p>
<p>Moments come and go, fading into one another in a blur, but Clary could still remember the night Simon held her hand in his and guided her through the safe zone, hiding amongst the shadows, far past the scheduled curfew. Officers patrolled the vacant streets as the long hours of night drew on but Simon seemed determined to get you away.</p>
<p>"Simon," Clary called his name, tugging at his hand. "Where are we going? If we get caught, they’re not going to let us off easily.”</p>
<p>Past the darkness and flickering broken bulbs that hung in street lamps, Clary could see Simon flashing her a smirk over his shoulder and felt him squeezing her hand reassuringly. He didn't reply but Clary hadn't expected that he would. The boy before her simply pulled her along closer behind him as his signature smirk softened into a smile, whispering the words that were enough for Clary to put her entire faith in him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Trust me. </em>
</p>
<p>And she did - she always had. He guided Clary along the winding backstreets and seldom used alley ways of the city until the she and Simon had made it to the edge of the safe zone. Simon led Clary behind him, letting her hand go as he slipped through a small hole in the barbwire fence that blocked off the survivors from the outskirts of the city that officers patrolled. Clary couldn't avoid the nerves that were biting at her senses; worried that she and Simon might get caught. Yet, Clary continued to follow after Simon letting him pull her through the outskirts to a grassy hill far away from the fence that had been implemented to cut-off survivors from the rest of the world currently infested with demons.</p>
<p>Once the pair stood there, atop of that grassy hill, Clary forgot all about the trials and tribulations of the city below. There, Clary could see the abundance of stars that clustered in the night sky, like glittering diamonds against a blank canvas, finally revealing their shy beauty after being concealed for so long by the city lights that no longer ran.</p>
<p>There, Clary could see the horizon stretch on and on, blending into the sky, offering her a whole world of hopeful possibilities; that maybe civilization still had a chance, that maybe there was a cure, or a utopia just waiting to be discovered. It made Clary feel as if the world hadn't been in a decaying mess, as if she and Simon were the only ones left.</p>
<p>“Looking at it, you’d almost be forgiven for thinking that the world wasn’t falling apart.” Clary muses.</p>
<p>Simon turns to look at her, the ache in his heart evident upon his face.</p>
<p>“This isn’t what I had in mind when I bought you up here.” He says, turning his face away almost as if he were ashamed of himself.</p>
<p>“I want this. I want you.” You say, taking his face in your hands, coaxing him to look at you.</p>
<p>And there, atop of that hill, under the great big sky, Simon held Clary close to him, letting his lips and fingers trace constellations onto her skin as he made her feel like heaven. Gasps and moans of his name echoed into the night air until his voice mingled with hers in a sweet symphony that made Clary realise, all so suddenly and in one abrupt rush, that she loved the boy with all her heart.</p>
<p>Afterward, when they were embraced in each other's arms and Clary was struggling to fight the exhaustion that itched at her eyes, listening to Simon’s heart beating in time to her own, Simon caught Clary’s attention just as she was about to fall asleep.</p>
<p>"Did I ever tell you that I wanted to be an astronaut when I was younger?" he asked.</p>
<p>Glancing up at him, Clary found him already gazing at the twinkling stars. His face was soft, blissful almost, but she could see the way his eyes glazed over with something heavy, something that tugged at his heart. Clary shook her head, smirking.</p>
<p>"Really? Why an Astronaut of all things?"</p>
<p>"Mmmmm," he said. "There was something about the idea of being close to the stars, getting to watch the world from an outside view that made me like the idea."</p>
<p>He sighed suddenly and turned to look at Clary, his fingers threading through her hair. He tightened his other arm around her waist and she instinctively curled up next to him, yawning as her eyes began to droop shut.</p>
<p>"You know what I like most about the stars?" he went on. "They're constant. As you grow older, as people change, when you're a thousand miles away, even during a demon apocalypse when people are evacuating their homes and taking refuge, the stars are always there. It's kind of comforting, especially now. When I look up at the stars, I don't feel so lost or alone. I feel... I feel at home."</p>
<p>Simon’s words slipped in and out of Clary’s stream of consciousness as she struggled to fight the sleep that taunted her. She couldn't stop herself from falling, from letting the gentle darkness take her, when Simon’s warm embrace and soothing voice nearly lulled her to sleep. A gentle breeze disrupted the still night and she sighed in content at the peacefulness around her.</p>
<p>The last thing Simon heard Clary whisper that night before she fully slipping into a deep slumber was, “You might be at home among the stars but I'm at home when I'm with you.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>AUTUMN</p>
<p>Autumn sweeps across the desolate world all at once, without any warning, shedding its warmth in flashes of orange and glowing golden sunsets to make way for winter that follows. Frail leaves begin to litter the ground and the weather turns crisp; not quite entirely the bone chilling coldness that had haunted the earth the first winter before the outbreak but it has also abandoned the sweltering and uncomfortable heat that came with summer. It's serene, it's peaceful, it gives off a sense of hope to see the colours of the leaves change and the temperature drop; to see the world breathe and evolve.</p>
<p>Clary decides quickly that she likes the colour orange and the strange comfort that it brings her; the pop of colour, of life, that it gives the dull world.</p>
<p>She’s surprised to find, that with the sudden cycle of nature's rebirth, comes life sprouting in other forms. It happens one day when Jace suggests that hunting for food is never a bad idea, that he doesn't know how long the canned food they both carry will last and that he's growing sick of eating the same thing every time, not that Clary can blame him. Empty hours must pass before Clary first spots it, emerging into the middle of the woods that she and Jace sit in. A pristine white rabbit scurries out from under a cluster of bushes and the first thing she thinks of is food.</p>
<p>Jace hushes Clary to be quiet once he spots it, already immersed in hunting his prey, but he hesitates, or maybe he's just waiting. Clary watches as the rabbit hops once, twice, naively innocent to the bitter world and, suddenly, despite her stomach churning and gurgling, begging for nutrients, Clary can't help but sympathise with the animal.</p>
<p>"It's a shame," she whispers, quiet enough so as not to disturb the stillness of the forest or the rabbit. "It's unfair to have to kill something so innocent," She says.</p>
<p>Jace grimaces, reminded internally of the story of his falcon and also because he knows she’s right, even though he hates to admit it. "Yeah, well, a lot of things in life are unfair; try the demon apocalypse we live in."</p>
<p>Clary sighs, earning a quick glance from Jace and it suddenly feels like years since he has last laid eyes on her. He begins to move, crouching forward and withdrawing a single hunting knife from his belt.</p>
<p>"It's food," he says. "And there are much worse things we can be eating, but I sure as hell would love one large serving of Mushu Pork for myself right about now.”</p>
<p>Clary keeps her eyes on Jace, watching as he approaches the rabbit before looking away, unable to see him murder an innocent creature. Clary winces at the small desperate squeak it gives before going quiet, feeling guilty when the thought of eating food makes her stomach rumble again.</p>
<p>"It’s the law of nature; The law is hard, but it is the law," Jace states. "Besides, as I see it, it's about time that the earth started giving back to us again, after everything it’s taken."</p>
<p>That night, Clary and Jace decide to make camp in the spot where they had found the rabbit.</p>
<p>Clary herself doesn't really want to linger in an empty, dark forest, unsure of what sort of creatures linger in the shadows, watching, but Jace promises he’ll keep her safe and that they'll need to cook the rabbit as soon as possible or else it'll spoil anyway.</p>
<p>Despite being upset by the loss of the innocent rabbit earlier, as soon as she and Jace settle next to the fire burning with flickering embers to feast on the meat they had scavenged, Clary almost sighs with content. The makeshift stew satisfies her growling stomach almost instantly and she can't help but wolf it down.</p>
<p>When Clary is satisfied that she’s eaten her fill, she leans back on the log that is her chair, her eyes coming to look over at Jace.</p>
<p>One month.</p>
<p>It had been one month since the incident at the mall, one month since Jace had explored every inch of her body, one month since Clary had begun to fall for the boy sitting opposite her.</p>
<p>A whole month had passed of agonising silence and awkward conversations, none of which were Jace’s fault. It was Clary’s. She had begun to live with the guilt of sleeping with a man that wasn't Simon and though her conscience assured her that having been with Jace was perfectly acceptable, that she and Simon had parted ways a year ago, her heart still yearned for the lost boy. And yet, Clary find that her heart also yearns for the scarred boy in front of her and she despises herself for how she’s been cold and distant towards Jace, despises herself for how the memory of Simon still haunts her and despises how she’s allowed herself to fall for another boy in the midst of a dystopian world.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Jace isn't stupid. He senses Clary’s uncertainty, notices her twirling Simon’s tags around in her fingers when she thinks he isn't looking; he sees her staring blankly into the distance, watches the way her eyebrows knit together and how her teeth sink heavily into her lower lip, often times so hard it draws blood. He tries to occupy Clary’s mind with anything else and it works, sometimes. But most of the time she’s too busy distancing herself from him to know he’s noticed anything different about her at all. Jace doesn't show Clary much distress but she can only imagine what he must be feeling; A boy who was scared of getting close to anyone, allowed himself to grow close to her.</p>
<p>Jace watches Clary now from across the fire, the way she cranes her neck to look up at the night sky, clearly lost in thought. Other than her usual tank top and tattered grey jeans that she had worn throughout summer, Clary now had on a sweater and a light-jacket tied around her waist. Jace wonders how she can still look like a Goddess sculpted from marble and gold even though she is dressed in rags and covered in scars.</p>
<p>"What are you thinking about?" he asks suddenly, startling Clary out of her reverie.</p>
<p>"Hmm?" Clary mumbles, turning to look at him. She catches his radiant eyes on her, staring intently. "Oh, just us. This,” she says, motioning to their position in the woods. “Mushu pork, you know, the usual."</p>
<p>A smirk cracks across Jace’s face but it's there for only a second before he’s leaning forward, wiping his hands on his back jeans.</p>
<p>"Okay, I've got a question." He states.</p>
<p>"What is it?" Clary asks.</p>
<p>"We've been together for a while now," he says. "I know you can handle yourself around demons as well as anyone can, but… say something other than a demon is coming after you; how are you going to defend yourself?"</p>
<p>Clary quirks an eyebrow and shrugs. "With a weapon? A knife, gun, those kinds of things."</p>
<p>"No, no," Jace shakes his head. "Let's say you have no weapons. What are you going to do?"</p>
<p>Clary sits there at a loss for words and stares blankly over at Jace.</p>
<p>"Why does it matter?"</p>
<p>"Because I need to make sure you can defend yourself," he says. "I might not always be around to help you or maybe you’ll need to save my ass one day." Jace says in all seriousness.</p>
<p>"I do not always need your help," Clary protests hotly but is interrupted by Jace getting to his feet and gesturing for her to do the same.</p>
<p>"Come on, get up," he says. "I'm going teach you how to defend yourself."</p>
<p>Clary rolls her eyes but obliges him with a huff, heaving herself up. As soon Clary is on her feet, Jace lunges at her and she shrieks, jumping back from him, whacking her hand against his chest.</p>
<p>"What the hell, Jace?” Clary exclaims, heart hammering against her chest.</p>
<p>Jace stifles his laughter but it doesn't stop the smirk that still tugs at his lips. He gestures down to Clary’s legs and the stance she had taken immediately to defend herself from his sudden outburst.</p>
<p>"See that foot there?” Jace points to Clary’s feet. “The one that's sticking out more than your other? That's your lead or prominent foot, meaning you're going to need to use that same prominent arm and hand to block from oncoming attacks."</p>
<p>He grabs Clary’s hands suddenly and brings them up, bending her elbows, positioning her wrists in such a way that her prominent hand is clenched into a fist, hugged closer to her chest while the other is in front, ready to punch or jab.</p>
<p>"Any time someone comes at you, use your weaker hand for quicker jabs," Jace explains. “Save your stronger hand for punches that'll cause more damage. You're most probably going to smaller than any would be opponent, so block against them and use their strength to your advantage.” Jace continues. “As soon as they're leaning close enough to you, throw a hard punch or kick them; anything that you think would work to help you escape, okay? Give it a try."</p>
<p>Clary nods and waits, watching as Jace leans what feels like half his total weight against Clary’s arm that's blocking her chest. She waist until he’s closer, weighing what the right time to strike would be, but then he’s leaning harder against her and she reacts quickly, accidentally kneeing him in the shin. Jace immediately cries in pain and jumps back, accidentally tripping over his own feet, landing bottom first on the ground.</p>
<p>"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Jace!" Clary apologises hastily. "I- You told me to- I was just doing what you were telling me-"</p>
<p>"Why in the world are you apologising?" Jace asks breathlessly, chuckling lightly. "You're not going to apologise to your attacker, are you?” Jace says, getting to his feet once more. “I knew you had an impressive skillset, but that, that was something else. Want to go again?”</p>
<p>"Are you crazy?" Clary asks incredulously. "Do you <em>want</em> me to hurt you?"</p>
<p>Jace shifts in his spot, wincing at his leg that Clary had kicked, before plopping fiat onto a nearby log with a heavy sigh. "I don't think you quite understand the whole concept of fighting to protect yourself. If hurting the other means the difference between life and death, you can’t feel guilty for doing it.”</p>
<p>"Yeah, well," Clary plops herself down next to Jace, a huff of air slipping past her lips, "you're kind of my partner in the whole demonic uprising so I'd rather you stay unscathed. I need your brawn, after all."</p>
<p>"Touché," Jace murmurs. "You're always the brains, aren't you?"</p>
<p>"Well, I can't expect you to be," Clary jests, your tone light and playful.</p>
<p>It makes Jace gasp in mock disbelief, a look of dramatic pain crossing his face that has a laugh bubbling at Clary’s lips.</p>
<p>"You're always making fun of me," he sighs, and in one swift movement with his arm sliding around Clary’s waist, he has her pinned to the ground beneath him as his fingers attack her sides.</p>
<p>Clary immediately bursts out into laughter but bites any other noises back for fear of any demons nearby but Jace is relentless. For a moment, Clary forgets about the troubles of the world as she squirm beneath Jace, gasping for air and stifling her chortling laugh. In the spur of the moment, Clary does what first comes to mind. Without a second thought, her hands grasp at Jace’s face, pulling him down to catch his lips on hers in a kiss that was meant to distract him. And it does, catching him completely off guard, making him go still.</p>
<p>Clary hadn't kissed Jace since that night in the abandoned mansion. Jace is confused at first, but so is Clary. Clary silently curses herself for kissing Jace; of all the things she could have done, but as soon as their lips reconnect for the first time in weeks, Clary suddenly caves at the feel and taste of Jace’s lips and the way he makes Clary grow warm. When Clary doesn't push Jace away, Jace begins to grow more comfortable and soon one of his hands rests upon her cheek while the other grips at her hip, his mouth moving in sync with hers.</p>
<p>Maybe it's because Jace gets to kiss you after weeks of solitude and distance that adds to the heat of the moment, because soon his tongue is grazing along Clary’s lower lip and she parts her mouth to let him in. Clary’s fingers thread their way through Jace’s blonde hair as their tongues lace together. Jace pulls away from Clary in a sudden desperate need, his lips marking their way down to her jawline and neck before settling on a spot along her jugular. His tongue tastes at the sensitive skin there, his mouth sucking on the flesh with a certain type of hunger, causing Clary to moan his name.</p>
<p>The sound of Jace’s name must trigger something in his mind because as soon as the word leaves Clary’s lips, Jace lifts his lips to kiss hers once more only this time the kiss is softer, more gentle, and he doesn't linger as long. He parts from Clary’s delicious mouth to lock eyes with hers, his thumb stroking her milky white cheek.</p>
<p>"I think I'm falling in love with you," Jace whispers.</p>
<p>Clary’s heart stops in her chest as she stares up at him, utterly bewildered. Jace’s affirmation is so abrupt, so startling, that all Clary can do is gawk at him. She’s unable to find her words or form a sentence and though she’s not entirely surprised by Jace’s sudden confession, she’s unsure of if she feels the same.</p>
<p>"Jace…" Clary mumbles. "I-"</p>
<p>"Do you feel the same?" Jace asks, his tone serious.</p>
<p>Jace’s question causes Clary’s heart to skip a beat as she looks up at him helplessly. The longer the moment stretches on, the more quickly Jace realises that maybe he shouldn't have said what he had. He pulls apart from Clary, disentangling his limbs from hers to sit up, brushing the dirt of his hands. Clary sits up a moment later, noting the way Jace’s face has become void of emotion, though his golden eyes are laces with hurt.</p>
<p>"I just..." Clary fumbles for her words, her heart sinking in her chest the longer she looks at him. "I need more time, Jace."</p>
<p>Jace, however, doesn't understand what that means. Time for what? The dystopian world gives anyone nothing but time. Jace refuses to ask, though, and refuses to hear Clary’s reasoning or excuses. When Jace gets to his feet suddenly, acting as if the past few minutes hadn't just happened, Clary flinches.</p>
<p>"We should head out," Jace says, his voice cold. "It's my turn to drive. You can sleep."</p>
<p>Clary wants nothing more than to pull Jace back into her, tell him she feels the same, but then images of Simon enter her mind, silencing her voice. So, instead, she follows after Jace wordlessly as they both return to the car, letting their little moment in the woods fade into the darkness of the night.</p>
<p>While Clary sleeps in the passenger side of the car, Jace watches the sunrise and quickly comes to hate the colour orange. The golden sunsets and sunrises and pops of warm and rich colours in the grey world do no justice for him when Clary has become the centre of his world, his saffron sun, burning in his heart and in his veins like ichor. Yet Clary is out of his reach, too far for him to grasp or hold or love, and that hurts him more than the thought of being trapped forever in a decaying world without any hope.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Clary had thought that the moment in the forest between her and Jace would put a strain on her relationship with Jace but the three days that follow feel much the same as they always have. Jace acts as if he hadn’t admitted his love for her, as if the moment in the forest had never happened at all, and Clary, unsure of what to say, doesn’t think to mention it. Jace doesn't let how Clary’s reaction affected him show in person, still taking to joking with her every chance that he can get, and while Clary appreciates his efforts, she knows the two of them will have to talk about it eventually.</p>
<p>One day, as Jace is driving down a seldom-used road, Clary gazing out the open window, breeze flowing through her red locks, Clary notices something rustling in the trees on the side of the road. She turns to look just as something emerges from the trees. Clary sits up straight in her seat, suddenly alert as she squints to make out what lies ahead of her and Jace. After a moment Clary’s eyes come to rest on the figures of two young boys, not all that much younger than herself and Jace. The taller of the two boys appears to be carrying most of the weight of the other boy, who can be seen wincing in pain as they spot the car, their faces lighting up, the taller boy waving his arms and shouting to garner Clary and Jace’s attention.</p>
<p>"Jace, do you see that?" Clary asks. "One of them looks hurt, we should help them.”</p>
<p>"No," Jace says firmly.</p>
<p>Clary’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as she turns to him. "Are you serious? What if that were you and Alec? What if Alec was the one injured? Would you really want someone to just drive past you when they have the means to help?"</p>
<p>Jace casts a glance at Clary and she can see he's wary. He looks back over at the two boys and clenches his jaw, sighing in defeat. He doesn't utter a single word to Clary as he pulls the car up next to the two boys. Jace hops out of the car and motions to Clary for her to stay put but she doesn't listen and stubbornly follows after him.</p>
<p>"We need help," The taller boy says. "Please… you can do whatever you want to me, just let me get my brother help first.” The boy pleads, his eye desperate.</p>
<p>Jace stops a few feet away from them and Clary notices how tense he is, his hand gripping the pistol in his belt.</p>
<p>"What happened to you?" Clary asks, stepping around Jace to move closer to the boys. Jace grows rigid as he watches after her but Clary doesn't stop, not until she’s kneeling in front of the younger boy. "Are the two of you alone out here?"</p>
<p>The two boys look at one another, almost a bit uneasily, before turning to look back at Clary.</p>
<p>"Well…" The older boy begins to speak. "We live in a camp not too far from here, but… we like to sneak out sometimes to explore the woods because without adult supervision, anything beyond the boundary of our camp is off limits.”</p>
<p>Jace scoffs, his burly arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, there's a reason for that, kid. Do you know how many demons must be crawling around in these woods?"</p>
<p>"Don't mind him," Clary tells the boys, turning her head slightly to glare up at Jace. "So, you snuck out. What happened to your brother?"</p>
<p>"We were playing," The younger boy says, wincing as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "But I tripped, fell and twisted my leg. I think it's sprained or broken, I don’t know, but it hurts a lot."</p>
<p>"We were supposed to be back an hour ago," The older boy says. "Oh man, they're going to kill us. I've been trying to help Anson back to our camp but it's a lot harder than I thought."</p>
<p>"Well, we can give you a ride there," Clary suggests.</p>
<p>"What?" Jace’s jaw drops open in disbelief.</p>
<p>Clary shoots him a glare over her shoulder and nods firmly. "How far is your camp from here?"</p>
<p>The older boy shakes his head. "By car? No more than five minutes drive. Can you actually give us a ride? Please? I can try to convince our camp leader to let you stay in the zone with us. I'm sure they won't mind and we have food and water to spare."</p>
<p>The offer is tempting, even Jace can’t deny that, but he's still unsure. He however doesn't reject the idea of giving the two young boys a lift to their compound when eventually Clary gets to her feet once more and starts ushering the boys into the car. Jace does however stop them before they can climb into the caddy tray, taking to eyeing the younger brother cautiously.</p>
<p>"I'm not going to have to stake you, am I?" Jace asks.</p>
<p>The younger boy shakes his head furiously. "No! We didn't run into any demons, we swear. We're not infected with the virus. All that happened was that I twisted my ankle."</p>
<p>Jace’s golden eyes narrow into a scrutinising glare, taking a step back from the door once he’s sure the boys aren’t any threat to either himself or Clary. "Better be more careful next time."</p>
<p>The pair of young boys don't lie; their camp is quite literally a five minute drive from where Clary and Jace found them, and in that five minutes, they act nothing but courteous. The younger boy is named Anson, the older, Emil, and they claim that their father runs the camp that they live in and that they've been recruiting survivors slowly. When Clary and Jace pull up at the camp, they’re both surprised to see that it's well fortified.</p>
<p>There are people armed with weapons guarding the front entrance all of whom watch the car approach with a sturdy glare. Jace puts the car in park and Emil jumps out first, shouting at those in possession of weapons that it's okay and that he needs help because his brother is hurt. As Clary jumps out of the car with Jace to help Anson, a man comes running out of the camp with two other guards by his side.</p>
<p>"Dad!" Anson and Emil shout in unison, as the man in front jogs to join his sons.</p>
<p>He's an older man with wrinkles in his face and bags under his eyes that age him ten years, courtesy of the stress of the outbreak. He seems mad, but relieved that his sons have returned to him.</p>
<p>"You scared us half to death!" The man says angrily. "You were sneaking out again, weren't you? What happened to your brother? And who are they?"</p>
<p>"It's okay," Emil reassures his father, gesturing to Clary and Jace. “They helped us. I think Anson twisted his ankle but Clary and Jace here, they stopped to help us and drove us back here.” Emil explains to his father, whose steely grey eyes had come to rest on Clary. “You’ll let them in, won’t you? I promised them they could stay for a while in exchange for helping us.”</p>
<p>The man grimaces but as he looks down at his two sons, he seems to waver. He glances over his shoulder at one of the guards and gestures for him to take Anson inside the compound.</p>
<p>"Bring them inside," The man says. "Get Anson’s leg checked out. Emil, stay with me. We'll talk about this later."</p>
<p>Anson and Emil exchange small, guilty looks as Anson limps away after the guard obediently, leaving Clary and Jace with the man that they said is their father. As soon as they're gone, the man doesn't seem so angry anymore, but instead acts cold and distant, as if he doesn't trust either Clary or Jace.</p>
<p>"I'm Valentine," he introduces himself, a friendly smile tugging at his chapped lips. "So… Emil tells me you helped him and his brother?” Valentine asks. “That says a lot during times like these. Not everyone will stop to help others in need when it's every man for themselves now-a-days."</p>
<p>"We did what we thought was right," Clary says, smiling over at Emil. "If I was ever in need, I wouldn't want someone to just ignore me."</p>
<p>Valentine smiles again and nods. "Well, if there's any way I can repay you, it's by offering my hospitality. You're welcome into our camp, if you'd like. The least I can do is give you some food and water or perhaps a place to stay for the night? It does look like it's going to rain and storms here are rather vicious."</p>
<p>Clary cranes her neck to look at the sky and sees the ominous dark clouds hanging overhead, blocking the sun from sight and threatening rain. She glances back at Jace who's glaring at Valentine, though Clary is unable to make out his expression or what may be on his mind. After a moment, Clary speaks, catching Jace’s attention.</p>
<p>"I think we should stay," Clary suggests. "Even just for the night."</p>
<p>Jace hesitates for a long moment but then nods. "Yeah, sure. I don't see why not."</p>
<p>"Excellent!" Valentine beams, clapping a hand on Jace’s broad shoulder. "Come on in. Emil said that your names were Clary and Jace?"</p>
<p>Clary and Jace both nod as Valentine guides the both of them into the camp. Clary can see a number of houses stretching on past the acres of land and a bunch of people and guards walking around, though the camp is eerily quiet.</p>
<p>"Now, it's not much, but it's home," Valentine says. "We’ve got electricity and running water and we're tucked safely away from harms reach; haven't had any run ins with any demons in months.” Valentine informs Clary and Jace as he continues on through the compound. “Here, Emil, if you want to stay with Jace and maybe show him around, I can bring Clary to your mother.” Valentine suggests. “Anson and Emil’s mother can show you to a shower, give you a tour, if you'd like. I insist."</p>
<p>Clary glances wearily at Jace who pauses before nodding. With Jace’s approval, Clary smiles up at Valentine and nods thankfully. "Sure, I'd like that."</p>
<p>Valentine nods and starts walking away with Clary by his side as she leaves Jace with Emil and one of the armed guards. Clary takes a look around the camp, following after Valentine as he guides her into one of the camps larger buildings.</p>
<p>"So… how long have you had this camp for?" Clary asks, simply to fill the awkward silence.</p>
<p>"A little over half a year," Valentine says. "After the bombs dropped and the demons and infection rate continued to grow and make it’s way into other quarantine zones, people began to lose faith in the military. So… some of us did what we thought was best and built our own fort to welcome in survivors." Valentine explains to Clary.</p>
<p>"That's pretty amazing," Clary says. "It's almost a relief to find that people can survive out here, even among the worst possible circumstances. It’s shows that there’s hope and that people still care.”</p>
<p>"You're right," Valentine says. "I feel as if, these days, people will put their faith in just about anyone they see that offers help. To some, it might seem idiotic, but to others, it gives them hope."</p>
<p>Clary opens her mouth to reply but then things happen far too fast for even her to comprehend.</p>
<p>Out of sight from Jace, where there's no one to see, no one to stop him, Valentine suddenly yanks Clary back into his chest, bringing his arm around her neck in an impossibly strong chokehold that immediately cuts off any air from her lungs. Clary begins to gasp desperately, choking for air, as her heart hammers in her chest, her fingers clawing at Valentine’s arm and face, anything to free herself from his grasp, but it's too late now. Clary knows she’s in trouble, knows there's no one there to help her.</p>
<p>The last thing Clary is aware of before the lack of oxygen to her brain causes her to lose consciousness is Valentine standing over her now slumped over body, no sorrow or guilt whatsoever painted on his face as he says the words that echo in Clary’s mind and haunt her dreams.</p>
<p>"And it looks like you chose to place your faith in the wrong person."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TRIGGER WARNING</p><p>This chapter does depict graphic scenes of cannibalism, abuse, injury and gun violence. Please do not read if any of these trigger warnings affect you.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Clary regains consciousness, her mind is foggy, her body, sore. As soon as she feels herself stir in her sleep, she immediately remembers what had happened and scrambles to her feet, ignoring the throbbing in her head as she takes in her surroundings. Clary is at first surprised to find that she is not bound, her arms and legs free of any ropes or chains. The second thing Clary notices is the darkness of the room she’s being held in and how her breath can be seen in the air as it leaves her body. There’s a stench on the air; a stench of dried blood and rotted flesh. The smell of it stings Clary’s nose, causing her to dry wretch.</p><p>It’s then that Clary sees the origin of the smell.</p><p>A small pile of shoes clutter one the corners in the room, a stainless steel surgical table occupies the other. Beside the large table is a smaller table, laden with scalpels and saws of varying shapes and sharpness. Everything, from the blades on the table to the ceiling, floors and walls is caked in dried blood. The body of a small child lays lifeless on the table, decapitated, various limbs unaccounted for. The realisation of what happens here, in this compound, hits Clary with such force she slams herself up against the wall, cowering away from the table and the blood, her heart thundering against her chest, her body shaking. Clary notices that she’s been stripped of her weapons, leaving her without a means of protection against any who might enter through the door into the room. Adrenaline having kicked in, Clary runs over to the smaller of the two tables and plucks a small blade from the pile. Clary’s mind is set on fleeing out the door but before she can even move to it, the same door flings open and Valentine walks through it.</p><p>Clary jumps away from him instantly, taking to cowering into the corner once more, the knife hidden in the sleeve of her shirt. Valentine’s eyes land on Clary and her stomach churns, blood curdling when she sees the sick bastard smiling.</p><p>"I see you're awake," Valentine says. "I do apologise for the mess, but it does supply us with our food."</p><p>Clary stares over at Valentine in disgust, her gaze avoiding the body of the small child lying on the table beside Valentine.</p><p>"You eat humans?" Clary chokes out. "You're fucking cannibals?"</p><p>"Ah, well, yes," Valentine shakes his head, taking a step toward Clary. "You see, Clary, with food growing sparse, some of us resort to the next best thing. We do what we can in order to survive."</p><p>Valentine takes another step forward and Clary shrinks back into the wall. She gasps as another idea pops into her mind; the mere thought is enough to make Clary shake with anger.</p><p>"Those aren't your sons, are they?" Clary asks. ”Angston and Emil? You knew we were coming, didn't you?"</p><p>"You're a smart one, aren't you?" Valentine hums. "We do have scouts that patrol the open roads ahead. You'd be surprised at how many stragglers we find. The distraction varies from time to time but I must admit… I'm still surprised you fell for the two brothers. Most people do drive past them."</p><p>Clary grimaces, her eyes narrowing into a glare before her heart lurches in her chest.</p><p>‘<em>Jace. Where's Jace?</em>’</p><p>Valentine must realise Clary is thinking about Jace as he takes a step closer to her, looking at her reassuringly.</p><p>"I wouldn't worry about your friend," Valentine explains. "Jace, was it? We could use someone like him in this camp. Those tattoos on his skin? They’re runes, which means he either is or was a Shadowhunter. Someone like Jace would be an invaluable addition to our camp.”</p><p>"Jace wouldn't never stay here if he knew you ate human flesh, that you kill children." Clary spits.</p><p>"But he might consider staying behind if he thinks you've abandoned him," Valentine says. "You've been unconscious for nearly three hours and when you don't return at all and I tell him that you fled without warning him, he might just be devastated enough to stay behind. All it takes from there is a little persuasion, but I'm sure I’m more than capable of bringing him around."</p><p>Clary realises suddenly that Valentine intends on killing her before working his magic on Jace.</p><p>"You're disgusting," Clary hisses through gritted teeth.</p><p>Clary hadn’t taken notice of just how close to her Valentine was before his hand strikes her across the face, sending her fumbling back, hitting the wall with such force that the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding is knocked out of her lungs. Clary’s fairly certain her lip has split open, either that or her nose is broke, because she can taste blood on her tongue, feel the warmth of it dripping down her face. Valentine lunges at Clary with a sudden ferocity that has her shrieking. He pins her against the wall but not before her arm comes up to block his chest.</p><p>"I hate for it to end like this," Valentine says. "You're a sweetheart, you really are. But your optimism will only be the death of you. I'm simply helping you, freeing you from your misery, and, in return, you're helping us by offering us nutrients."</p><p>Clary gasps for air as he leans against her with more force, crushing her against the wall. "You're fucking crazy," Clary struggles to shout.</p><p>Valentine simply laughs, though his grey eyes are narrowed into a sharp glare. He struggles against Clary for a moment and she panics, unsure of what to do, before remembering what Jace had taught her in the forest. With shaky hands, Clary waits in anticipation, allowing Valentine to add as much of his weight as he could onto her, clutching the hilt of the small surgical blade in her hand. When he's leaning so heavily on her that she can smell his rotting breath, she reacts. Without even thinking, Clary withdraws the blade and rams it into Valentine’s side, or maybe it was his stomach, she isn’t quite sure because the adrenaline and fear mingle together enough to blind her and turns her numb.</p><p>Valentine cries out in agony suddenly, crumbling away from Clary, shouting viciously, "You bitch!"</p><p>Clary’s eyes widen as Valentine stumbles into the surgical table behind him, crimson blood staining his clothes. Clary’s shaking as she stares over at him, too numb to move, but then Valentine starts moving toward her again and she jumps into action, running for the door. Clary grabs onto the table full of blades and drags it onto the floor in front of Valentine, hoping it’ll act as an obstacle in his way before she’s flinging open the door and slamming it in his face.</p><p>"You can tell your followers that Clary’s the name of the little girl who fucking stabbed you, asshole!" Clary yells as she runs out of the building and into the compound.</p><p>Behind her, Clary can hear Valentine shouting but she doesn't stop, pushing her legs to run as fast as they can. She manoeuvres her way out of the empty building, realising from memory that it was the same building Valentine had lured her into under the pretence of a hot shower before knocking her unconscious. As soon as Clary emerges out into the open, she can feel that it’s raining, a relentless downpour that makes it hard for her to see in what direction she needs to go in order to escape. A flash of lightning pierces the darkened sky followed by the roar of thunder that’s so lade it shakes the ground beneath her feet. Clary runs through the rain, her feet slipping and sliding as she goes, not once looking back, as she shouts for Jace desperately.</p><p>"Jace!" Clary screams. "JACE!"</p><p>Clary’s heart is hammering so hard in her chest that she can feel it even in her throat, especially when she hears Valentine closing in from behind.</p><p>"Someone stop her!" he bellows. "Don't let her get away!"</p><p>There's hardly anyone outside with the exception of a few guards and they immediately notice the commotion unfolding when Valentine can be heard shouting. Clary’s at a loss, unsure of where to go or how to find Jace, before someone steps in front of her, grabbing on to her arms and holding he in place. Clary cries out, thrashing against the person, thinking it's either a guard or Valentine himself.</p><p>"Let go of me!" Clary shouts, scratching at the persons face, her eyes blurred from tears and rain.</p><p>"Whoa, whoa, hey, calm down! Clary, it's me, it’s me! It's Jace!"</p><p>Clary suddenly recognises Jace’s honey-like voice and nearly collapses against him as relief washes over her. She allows herself no time to relish in his safety, stammering to speak.</p><p>"What's wrong? What happened to your face? You're bleeding," Jace says, her fingers coming to cusp gently at Clary’s swollen cheeks. "I heard you shouting. I was with Emil; he said that he didn't know where you’d gone. I thought you’d left me…”</p><p>"Don't… Don’t trust them, Jace," Clary stutters. "They're cannibals. Valentine… he…”</p><p>Clary and Jace’s reunion is cut short as it is interrupted suddenly by the sound of Valentine’s voice, bellowing at the guards to grab Clary, to grab Jace. Clary desperately tugs at Jace's hand, pulling him with her as she starts to run again.</p><p>"We have to get out of here!" Clary urges. "They're going to kill us if we don't!"</p><p>Jace runs after Clary, confused and startled at the sudden accusations but he doesn't argue. Clary screams when she hears the sound of a gunshot echoing into the night. The urgency of the situation and the need to escape seems to hit Jace abruptly because he’s then the one running ahead, pulling Clary after him, his hand gripping hers tightly.</p><p>"Okay, okay, run!" he urges.</p><p>Clary does just that and runs behind Jace, hoping by some miracle they make it out of the compound unscathed. Valentine and his men are however persistent and she and Jace can hear gunshots firing at the both of them as they weave through the compound, ducking so as to avoid getting shot.</p><p>Clary’s really not sure if they’ll manage to escape, not when all she can make out in the heavy rain is the guards closing the entrance of the camp. A few more guards emerge onto the path in front of Clary and Jace, their guns aimed at the both of them. Jace however reacts before any of them can pull the trigger, shooting a number of them at point blank range as he continues to pull Clary towards the compound gate.</p><p>Clary tugs at Jace’s hand when she notices more guards closing in from her left. Jace pushes Clary out of the way as soon as they start firing. A moment later Clary hears Jace cry out in pain and she assumes a bullet has grazed his arm or perhaps his side. In all the franticness of the moment, Clary can't be too sure what happened to him, but she knows it must hurt because Jace winces as he moves, trying his best to ignore the pain. Jace fires his gun at the guards, pushing Clary onward, shouting at her to get to the car. Clary’s too caught up in the moment to notice that Jace still lags behind, struggling to fight off the guards as best as he can. It's only when Clary hears another gunshot and Jace’s strangled cries that she stops running toward the gate. Clary turns to see Jace collapsing to the ground, blood oozing from his flesh and washing, dripping onto the now sodden ground. Clary screams when she realises Jace has been shot at, the image of his lifeless body on the ground frightening her. As Clary runs to help him, a guard comes to stand over Jace, a gun pointed at his skull.</p><p>Clary isn’t consciously aware of her actions when she recalls that the blade she’d use to stab Valentine remains in her hand. She bolts toward the guard who’s too distracted by the prospect of killing Jace to notice her. Clary jumps onto the guard's back to weigh him down, the blade in her hand coming to connect with his jugular. The guard drops to the ground gasping for air, blood pooling from his mouth before he slump to the ground motionless. As soon as Clary’s certain the guard is dead she flops to the ground beside Jace, grabbing at his pale face, noticing the blood that he’s losing. Clary doesn't have the time to look for where he’s been shot. All she knows is that they need to move and quickly.</p><p>"Come on, Jace," Clary urges. "Come on, get up! I can’t carry you!"</p><p>Jace winces and cries out in pain as Clary tries to help him up. Clary can see that Jace struggles to hold back his whimpers of hurt as she lifts him to his feet. Supporting most of Jace’s weight, Clary flings one of his arms around her neck and begins dragging him toward the compound gate.</p><p>Clary is almost certain that she and Jace aren’t going to get out of this one alive, but finds that luck is on their side. By some miracle, Clary manages to drag Jace along with her out of the compound and up toward the car. She is filled with a sense of relief when they slump up against it, though she knows their not out of the woods yet. Clary turns to Jace, who barely manages to hold himself up, and searches through his pockets for the car keys, ignoring the way her shaky hands begin to coat in his blood. Clary just about drops the keys in her haste to get the doors open and help Jace into the passengers side, his strength failing him. Ducking down low when Clary hears the ricochet of a bullet hit the metal of the car, Clary sprints around to the drivers side and shoves herself into the seat, fumbling to get the car to start. Once it roars to life, Clary does not wait to slam her foot down on the accelerator, speeding off down the abandoned highway, the traction on the wheels making the car swerve dangerously on the slippery concrete road. The rain wiper blades do no justice in easing the heavy rain that lands on the windscreen. Clary can’t stop her shaking; she’s drenched from head to toe, in blood and rain and cold to the touch, but she refuses to stop. Refuses to look back.</p><p>Clary isn't sure how she and Jace managed to escape Valentine and his men. Maybe they weren’t worth hunting. Maybe Clary had wounded Valentine badly enough that he was unable to chase after them, even he’d wanted to. Whatever the reason, Clary finds herself more than relieved when the guns stop firing and she and Jace are miles away from Valentine and his compound of cannibals. Clary only takes to slowing down when she’s certain they're long gone but she knows she’s not out of the woods yet; a new threat is already awaiting her. Clary only realises Jace is unconscious when she turns to look at him, an hour into their drive, and sees him slumped over in his seat, his normally golden hair matted with mud, the car seat stained with his blood. The sight of it is enough to frighten her and she knows that she needs to help him and quickly; who knows how much blood he's lost?</p><p>The rain doesn't abate as Clary drives, further and further along the eerily abandoned road, into the unknown.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>** TRIGGER WARNING!</p><p>Depictions of blood and gore, so please don't read this chapter if these things trigger you.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rain is constant in its downpour.</p><p>It's relentless and brutal, pairing with the sound of booming thunder that’s so loud it rattles the ground, sending jolts of fear into Clary’s heart each time she hears it. The rain dampens the world and chills her to her core but she pays it no mind, all her attention focussed on Jace and how quickly his condition is declining.</p><p>The moment that Clary is certain Valentine and his camp full of goons are no longer in pursuance of her and Jace, she makes to find shelter in an abandoned cottage, it’s gables covered in thorny vines and peeling paint. As Clary struggles to assist an incoherent Jace up the few stairs, onto the landing and down the hallway into the cottages’ master bedroom, it’s then that she becomes aware that Jace has been shot not once, but twice. One of the wounds presents as a bullet graze to Jace’s abdomen. It’s a flesh wound and can easily be stitched up, but it has caused him to bleed profusely, his clothes soaked in red iron. Jace is weak, and Clary knows that despite her efforts, he may not survive.</p><p>Worse than Jace’s extreme loss of blood is the gaping wound sustained to his left thigh, courtesy of the second bullet that had found it’s mark on Jace. Even to Clary’s untrained eye, she recognises that the bullet is lodged deep within the ribbed muscles there. The bullet acts a sort of plug on the blood that no doubt will ooze from the wound once the bullet is removed. Jace says to Clary, in one of his moments of more lucid consciousness, that it's not nearly as bad as it looks, that they’re lucky the bullet didn’t shatter one of his bones or penetrate a main artery.</p><p>“You have to remove the bullet.” Jace commands, his voice coarse.</p><p>"I don’t know how to do that without hurting you," Clary exclaims, her voice rising in panic. “Back at the camp, Valentine took all of our supplies, our med-kit. I don’t have anything for the pain, or anything to stitch you up with.”</p><p>Jace considers Clary carefully before lifting his bloodied hand to stroke at her pale cheek</p><p>“There’s got to be something of use lying around here, Clary.”</p><p>“Okay… I’ll have a look, but I can’t make any promises. Stay here while I have a look around and whatever you do, don’t move.”</p><p>"Wasn't planning on it," Jace replies dryly, clinging onto his witty sense of humour despite the pain racking through his body.</p><p>Clary takes off out of the bedroom and down the hall to venture around the house, looking through cupboards, drawers and cabinets for anything of use to help ease Jace’s pain and or to remove the bullet lodged in his thigh. Clary feels herself panic as she comes up empty handed, her heart heavy as she returns to where Jace lies on the bed, his forehead coated with a sheen of sweat.</p><p>"The place has been picked clean; there's nothing here that can help you," Clary says, running your hands through her hair, her face flushed. "I don't know what to do, Jace."</p><p>Jace lies very still for a long moment, and Clary starts to believe he’s stopped breathing altogether when he opens his mouth to speak once more.</p><p>“You’ll have to remove it with your hands and then cauterise the wound to seal it.”</p><p>Clary gawks at Jace as though he’s sprouted a second head.</p><p>“You mean to tell me that you want me to take my fingers, dig around in your flesh for a bullet fragment and then seal the wound with fire?” Clary lets out. “Jace; I’m no medical student but I’m pretty sure that doing any of that without the proper medical equipment or at least some rubbing alcohol, something to disinfect the area, is going to lead to infection.”</p><p>“Clary; we have no other choice. It's either that or I can bleed to death. If we choose to leave my leg as it is, there’s the chance the flesh will start to rot. If that happens, I’m as good as dead anyway. At this point, there’s not much else I have to lose." Jace explains.</p><p>"You mean asides from your life?" Clary rebuffs. "Doing this can lead to all types of infection that we don't have the medicine for, Jace."</p><p>"You have to do this," Jace says, taking a sharp breath between his teeth as he shifts his position on the bed. "Please, Clary.”</p><p>Clary hates to admit that Jace is right. She needs to remove the bullet from the muscles in his thigh as soon as possible; she’s already afraid they’ve spent too much time bickering when they should have instead been tending to Jace’s injuries.</p><p>After a moment of careful consideration, Clary sighs in defeat and nods her head in agreement, asking Jace to instruct her on what to do in order to remove the bullet and seal the wound. Jace instructs Clary to see if the gas mains are still operational, hoping that the stove might still ignite, providing them a means of heat to seal the wound. Couse. Clary heads down the hallway once more and into the modest kitchen found at the front of the house. To her surprise, the gas stove does ignite, after a couple of attempts and a quick blow at the outlet to rid it of any built up dust. Clary takes the switch blade she’d managed to pilfer back before she and Jace had even met, and puts it up against the blue flames. While Clary waits for the blade to emit the bright orange glow, she scrounges around in the pantry, hopeful she might come across something that will help Jace that she may have missed in her earlier search. To her luck, Clary finds a small, unopened bottle of port wine. While it might not be medical grade alcohol, Clary is fairly certain the wine has a strong enough alcohol content to kill off any bacteria or germs that have settled around the open wound on Jace’s thigh.</p><p>Eventually the blade begins to glow a bright orange colour, indicating that it’s reached peak heat. Carefully, so as to not burn her hand, Clary turns off the gas outlet, picks up the knife and the port wine, and returns to the bedroom where she finds Jace waiting patiently.</p><p>“I managed to find this.” Clary says, holding up the bottle of port wine. “Should be okay to sterilise the wounds with.”</p><p>Jace nods, eyeing off the still glowing blade in Clary’s hand. Clary hands Jace the bottle of port so that he can open it and pour it onto the wound in his thigh. Jace grits his teeth as he does so, the alcohol stinging, burning at his flesh like fire. Before Clary is able to take back the bottle, Jace takes a huge gulp, hoping against all odds that the grog in his system might help dull the pain he knows he’s about to have to endure.</p><p>Clary moves to sit down by Jace’s thigh, knife sizzling in her hand, her grip tight around its hilt.</p><p>"Are you sure about this?" Clary asks.</p><p>"No," Jace admits. "But do it anyway."</p><p>Clary nods firmly and sucks in a sharp breath. She watches as Jace leans back against the headboard, his fingers gripping the old fashioned floral duvet nervously as he struggles not to show Clary the fear that might linger on his otherwise stoic face.</p><p>Jace had admitted that he wasn’t sure he would have the courage to continue on if he was the one cauterising his wound, but Clary herself isn’t so sure she has the strength to do it either. Clary takes a few moments to compose herself, gather her thoughts, her wits, to prepare herself for what will happen next because she knows she can't stop once she starts. Clary knows Jace needs help. And she’s the only one who can give him any.</p><p>Jace tells Clary to hold the blade against his skin in short spurts and not to press too lightly, but Clary finds herself still scared she'll hurt him. Before Clary can move her hand towards his skin, Jace stops her, his fingers clasping around her wrist. Jace looks Clary in the eyes, locking gazes with yours.</p><p>"I trust you, okay?" he whispers. "I know you can do this. I trust you."</p><p>His small confession is enough to solidify Clary’s resolve. She nods firmly and then tears her gaze from Jace’s to look back at his wound; the sight of it is practically vomit inducing, but Clary pushes on, doing her best to swallow back the bile she’d felt rising up from the depths of her stomach.</p><p>The night soon after that moment becomes a blur of Jace’s continual cries of pain and the distinct smell of burnt flesh.</p><p>When Clary first presses the blade to the skin at Jace’s side, Jace hisses in pain, almost the same way the metal of the blade hisses like a venomous viper when it makes contact with his wound. Jolting, Jace instinctively makes to shrink away from Clary, unaware of how bad the searing pain would feel. Clary startles at his reaction and pulls away immediately, her features laced with concern, but she finds that Jace simply shakes his head furiously, muttering through clenched teeth that Clary needs to continue on.</p><p>The second time the heated blade comes to rest against Jace’s flesh, the pain is gradual at first, but soon overwhelms all of Jace’s senses. Jace tries with all his might not to cry out or struggle against Clary, but soon finds he can’t help himself as he squirms beneath Clary’s touch, grunting and panting hard as soon as she digs her fingers into his muscle in search of the bullet.</p><p>The bullet has become so slick with blood that even with her dainty fingers, Clary struggles to get a grasp on it. Her palms grow sweaty, her throat dry, but Jace’s steely glare encourages her to continue.</p><p>As time goes on and as Clary continues to struggle in removing the bullet, Jace becomes less able to control his cries of agony. The feeling of Clary’s fingers digging around in the open and needless to say sore wound, proves to be too much and suddenly he screams in desperation and pain before muffling his voice by biting down hard on his lower lip, drawing blood. Clary knows there's no use in turning back now, that she has to finish what she’s started, but she still gives him a chance to regain his composure, staring at him solemnly as he tries to gather himself. As Clary feels around in Jace’s thigh for the bullet once more, she starts spewing words of encouragement to him, that she's almost done, that she needs him to hold on just a little longer. As Clary continues in what she is starting to believe might be a pointless exercise, she begins to question whether her words of encouragement are meant for Jace, or for herself.</p><p>By the half hour mark of searching for the bullet, Jace's screams and Clary’s despairing and wavering words of encouragement mingle together in an unpleasant cacophony. Clary hates herself for how she’s causing Jace so much pain, hates herself for refusing to stop even when he begs her to. Clary’s heart begins to hammer against her chest, in her throat, in her ears, until she can practically feel her pulse in the tip of her fingers, the only feeling left in her otherwise numb state of being.</p><p>At some point throughout the ordeal, Jace loses consciousness, his body unable to cope with level of excruciating pain being inflicted upon it.</p><p>Finally, after almost what seemed impossible, Clary extracts the bullet from Jace’s thigh, her fingers coated in his blood. She checks that the bullet hasn’t entered his body and broken apart into smaller fragments, as they often do, but finds that the bullet is still intact. Satisfied that none of the bullet remains, Clary drops the bullet to the floor and runs back into the kitchen to reheat the blade so she can cauterise the exposed flesh.</p><p>When she returns from the kitchen, Clary sees Jace and how nearly all the strength in him has been spent. He's perhaps even weaker now and sickeningly pale, a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead, his chest rattling each time he draws in breath, his eyes drooped shut, Jace having slipped into an uneasy slumber. Clary’s almost scared she’s done something wrong, that maybe he's dead when he doesn't move for a few minutes. Clary begins to panic, approaching Jace to shake him awake but it is then she notices the slight rise and fall of his chest, the way his face scrunches up each time he shifts in his sleep and she feels herself relax; at least, momentarily.</p><p>Clary sits back on her knees for a moment, clutching the switchblade in her hand with a certain type of disgust on her face before she tosses it to the ground. Clary wastes no time in cleaning the area around the wound on Jace’s thigh and by his side, making sure not to wake him.</p><p>Watching Jace sleep in a near lifeless state brings back to mind, memories and images of the events that had led up to that specific moment.</p><p>Clary is suddenly hit by an overwhelming sensation she can't quite put her finger on. She feels sick, weary, as she wipes the blood, Jace’s blood, from his hands and his face that he must have smeared there accidentally. After she bandages his wounds as best she can with what’s available to her, Clary feels a wave of absolute exhaustion wash over her and she knows there's nothing more she can do but to curl up on the ground next to the bed, next to Jace, and pray against all odds that he makes it through the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clary wakes early the next morning, to find Jace already awake, though somewhat bleary.</p><p>“Hey… you okay?” Clary asks, rubbing the sleep from her tired eyes as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed beside Jace. “You passed out while I was cauterising your wounds. I’m sorry… I’m sorry for hurting you.”</p><p>Jace shakes his head, running his thumb along Clary’s badly bruised cheek.</p><p>“You did what you had to do. You saved my life.” Jace reassures Clary.</p><p>“Yeah… maybe. Neither of us can be sure it still won’t get infected.”</p><p>Jace scowls slightly at Clary’s words.</p><p>“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, for now, we should get moving again.”</p>
<hr/><p>Clary and Jace are certain that after bandaging his wounds and taking the next coupe of days slowly, Jace would slowly but surely regain his strength. And he does, for a day. He limps when he walks and winces each time he shifts his weight from one foot to the other; Clary is certain that Jace, in all his stoicism, is trying his hardest not to show how badly his injuries truly hurt. His skin regains some of it's colour, though it’s easy to see he’s still rather weak. Clary decides it’s best she doesn't rush him to hurry when they begin packing up their things to start on their journey once more.</p><p>Despite his vast improvement from the day before, sickness overwhelms him quickly, and by midway through the second day, Clary notices that Jace grows weaker, paler, and vastly more ill.</p><p>He tells her that he's fine numerous times but Clary knows Jace is lying by how he hardly talks, when he refuses food, but most of all when he nearly collapses to the ground when he's trying to get out of the car to help her look for supplies in a nearby house.</p><p>Clary manages to break Jace’s fall just before he can collide with the ground. The instant her hands come in contact with his skin, she feels it burning.</p><p>"I'm fine," Jace insists before Clary can say anything, pushing himself away from her to stand on his own two feet.</p><p>As Jace makes to walk up the path leading to the house, Jace sways, losing his footing. Before he can stop himself, he's tripping again and falling to the ground. Clary swoops forward instinctively so as to catch him, huffing at the sudden extra weight of Jace. She reaches her hand up to his forehead. Pushing his sweaty blonde hair away from his forehead, Clary places the back of her hand against his skin, her eyebrows furrowing when she realises just how bad his fever is.</p><p>"You're not fine, Jace." Clary scolds. "Look at yourself! You can barely stand let alone fight off any demons.”</p><p>"I said I'm fine," Jace replies sternly. "We can’t afford to be taking things slowly; we’re running low on supplies and the sooner we find some, the sooner we can get out of here.”</p><p>Jace pulls away from Clary once more, grunting as he limps away, his hand clutching at his painful side. Clary stares after him, noting the way his blood tinged shirt ruffles in the slight breeze as he walks away. It's the only thing Jace has to wear that hasn't been thoroughly drenched in his blood.</p><p>The pairs search through the house is silent, stiff. Jace tries to contain his groans of pain with each step he takes but eventually finds himself unable to keep from emitting an occasional grunt or huff the longer he’s on his feet. Jace doesn't like to admit to Clary, but every step he takes is agony. His thigh throbs with a dull, aching pain and at his side, a sharper more intense pain, like that of a stitch, can be felt.</p><p>When Jace mentions that he needs to take a minute to catch his breath, Clary doesn’t reprimand him. He pauses by an armchair in the living room of the house they’re currently searching, watching Clary intently as she wanders around, opening kitchen drawers and pantry cupboards.</p><p>“I’m going to check out upstairs. You stay here and rest up, okay?” Clary says, taking in Jace’s exhausted form.</p><p>Jace nods, leaning back into the armchair, his face lined with a level of tired Clary hadn’t seen before.</p><p>Venturing upstairs, Clary is met with an eerie silence. Without Jace having joined her, she finds herself free to explore the rooms of what seems to have once been a much loved family home. Absorbed in searching through the quaint rooms situated on the second floor, Clary is startled when she hears Jace from the lower level of the house. His voice is hoarse, but Clary finds herself glad to hear it, relieved Jace hasn’t passed out from the undoubtedly obvious pain he is in.                  </p><p>"Do you ever think back to what life was like before the outbreak?" he asks, catching Clary off guard. "Where were you? You know, when the demons first appeared?"</p><p>Clary pauses in what she is doing, taking a moment to think back on the last day where life held some semblance of normality. Without thinking, her fingers come to grasp around the metal tags around her neck. Clary clutches at them tightly.</p><p>"I was with Simon," Clary says, her voice quiet. "Every year, we’d attend a sort of holiday camp up in Big Bear region together, you know, give our parents a bit of a break first couple of weeks of summer vacation. Normally it’d be held in the summer, but for some reason, last year it was decided that the camp would be held in the winter.” Clary explains, coming to search the upstairs bathroom. “We were so remote and cut off from the outside world that we really had no idea what was going on until mid way through our second week of camp, we were forced onto buses and returned home. I remember returning home and not even recognising the place; it was like a war zone.” Clary stops her narrative momentarily to let out a long sigh before continuing. “Once we’d learned of the few demons over in Long Island, Simon and I thought it'd be best to just pack our things and go. We tried going in the opposite direction of all the chaos but the military had already blocked off any way in or out of the city. They’d said they couldn't risk letting anyone come in or anyone go out in the fear that the ‘infection’ if you can call it that, might spread.” Clary says, finishing off searching the bathroom. “While I understood their intentions, they were misplaced, and only a few days after we’d returned home, everything went completely to hell and by then, even the military couldn't contain the disaster unfolding in front of them."</p><p>There's a small silence as Jace registers your words. "He's your boyfriend, isn't he?" he asks eventually. "Simon? Of course he is. You were all he ever talked about."</p><p>The sound of Simon’s name rolling of Jace’s tongue causes Clary’s heart to lurch in her chest. Clary sighs and drops Simon’s tags from her hands, making her way down the stairs and out into the living room where she’d left Jace in a moth eaten armchair.</p><p>"Was," Clary corrects him. "Simon was my boyfriend, but before that, he was my best friend. Unfortunately… the whole demon apocalypse thing kind of got in the way of both aspects of our relationship."</p><p>Jace takes Clary in, his gaze intent, pausing for a moment before continuing slowly.</p><p>“I don’t know if it’s my place to be telling you this, but Simon, he often used to say that when he made it back home, he was going to propose to you. That you’d get married, have children, settle down, that kind of thing.” Jace says, his voice level, almost void of emotion.</p><p>Clary smiles wryly.</p><p>“Yeah?” Clary quips. “That certainly sounds like something Simon would say.” Clary confesses, leaning up against the kitchen counter. “He was the kind of guy who, once he’d set his mind to something, that was it. There was never any changing his mind or convincing him otherwise.”</p><p>Jace doesn’t respond and the awkward silence that settles between he and Clary makes Clary shift uncomfortably, her teeth tugging at her lower lip, racking her brain for something else to say.</p><p>"What about you? Where were you when you heard the news?" Clary asks after a considered moment, glancing over at Jace who had taken to leaning his head back, staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>“With my family; Alec, Isabelle, their parents, my adoptive parents, and Max, their youngest." Jace says. "We were in Idris for Max’s rune ceremony.” Jace says, his voice laced with a sense of nostalgia. “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense to you, but for us Shadowhunters, demon killers if you like, receiving our first rune is a moment of pride, the first step in becoming a fully fledged Shadowhunter. We were caught completely unawares and were quickly overrun.” Jace’s voice breaks. “At first we thought that there were only lower level demons, nothing even an apprentice Shadowhunter can’t handle, but we were wrong. Some how, Greater Demons had broken through the protective wards around the city.” Jace explains, his eyes coming to rest upon Clary’s enthralled face. “Amidst the chaos and the fighting… my brother Max was killed and I was sucked into a portal that landed me smack bang in the middle of New York, alone."</p><p>"What about your parents? Alec? Isabelle?" Clary asks.</p><p>"I don’t know. When I first landed in New York, I tried everything I could think of to return home or to get into contact with anyone who might still have been in Idris, but it was futile. I've no idea what would have happened or where they may have gone following the initial attack.” Jace surmises.</p><p>“Jace… I’m so sorry.” Clary says, her heart hurting for the boy before her.</p><p>“It was then that I volunteered for the army. I figured I had no way of getting back to Idris and that I might as well do something to aid the mundanes in their fight against the Shadow world. Who better for that task then a Shadowhunter, right?” Jace asks rhetorically, his attempt at lightening the mood falling on deaf ears. “That’s when I met Simon, your Simon.”</p><p>Clary considers Jace for a moment before speaking.</p><p>“Do you think when someone turns… or becomes diseased, that they're kind of just trapped in their own bodies, without any control, watching helplessly as they hunt down humans?"</p><p>"I don't know," Jace contemplates. "Generally demons are born from the depths of hell itself, not created by turning a human. It’s unprecedented. Being consciously aware of killing humans and being powerless to do anything to stop yourself would be terrible though. I can't imagine being trapped in my own body but having no control over my actions."</p><p>Clary hums in agreement.</p><p>Silence again fills the air though this time Clary doesn’t feel the need to dull it out with noise. Instead Clary takes to looking out of the large window that presents a view of the generous frontage of the house. It’s then, in the periphery of her vision that Clary notices movement in the overgrown grass of the neighbouring lot. Two demons, slithering their way down the street, inching closer and closer to the house she and Jace are currently in. Fear immediately sinks in and Clary wastes no time in standing up straight from where she’d been leaning against the kitchen bench and walking over to Jace, who had begun to look rather sick as he leaned heavily back into the armchair he was sitting in.</p><p>"What's wrong?" he asks.</p><p>"Demons," Clary gulps. "There's some outside. We’ve got to get out of here. Now. Can you stand? We need to somehow get back to the car without being spotted."</p><p>Jace's already furrowed brow creases and he nods grimly, moving to push himself to his feet. Clary sits back on her heels, watching nervously as he struggles to stand.</p><p>"We'll do our best to sneak around them, okay?" Clary says. "Head straight for the car; you can keep up, right?"</p><p>"I told you; I'm fine," Jace grumbles as he walks past Clary and towards the front door.</p><p>Clary follows Jace to the front door before taking the lead, trying to hidden amongst the jagged shadows the fading sun creates. Neither Clary nor Jace make it very far out of the house when instead they’re startled by another noise, a shuffling of feet, a voice groaning, peaking in interest. Clary stops in her tracks, which causes Jace to collide with her back, her head snapping up to survey your surroundings. And, as soon as you do, your heart sinks in your chest.</p><p>As if by some dark magic, more demons have appeared. Another two, no, three, than the initial few that Clary had noticed now slither and slide not ten metres from where she and Jace stand. One of the demons stares at Clary with soulless eyes, snarls ripping from it's throat.</p><p>"Shit," Clary hisses. "The demons have seen us."</p><p>"Well don’t just stand there, run!" Jace snaps. “There are four that we can see but who knows how many more are hiding?"</p><p>Clary glances back at Jace hastily, weighing up in her head Jace’s chance of being able to keep up with her despite his leg. The odds don't seem to be in his favour and she’s deathly afraid they might not make it out of this unscathed. Clary decides that instead of worrying about what might happen, she needs to focus instead of getting her and Jace out of there and back to the car. Clary grabs onto Jace’s hand without a second thought and starts pulling him along behind her but before Clary can begin to sneak past the demons lining the street, Jace pulls her back into him harshly. Clary makes to turn so as to ask Jace what’s wrong but before she can do so, she see exactly what the problem is. Another demon is before them, blocking their path and it’s eyes are locked with her own.</p><p>Jace curses under his breath as he pushes Clary forward and down a path that he hopes will bypass any of the demons. He tells Clary to run, to not look back, no matter how much she might want to. Clary does as Jace tells her, Jace’s condition momentarily slipping her mind. Despite herself, as Clary dashes through the crowd of demons, she casts a glance back at Jace who she can see is doing his best to keep in line with Clary’s pace. Jace struggles as he limps his way behind Clary, his face unable to mask the tremendous amount of pain he is in. Clary notices out of the corner of her eye, a number of demons closing in on Jace, and her heart lurches in her chest.</p><p>The pair of them are nearly back at the car, almost within safety, when something happens and that something happens to be quite bad.</p><p>As Jace runs towards the car, he lands poorly on the foot of his injured leg and a piercing, sudden pain shoots up his spine causing him to cry out, trip, and crumple to the ground. Jace tries with all his remaining strength, to heave himself up off the ground, but the pain in his leg and in his side prove to be too much. His arms shake as he attempts to lift himself up before he is again collapsing to the ground again in a heap.</p><p>"Jace!" Clary shouts. "Oh, god, Jace!"</p><p>The pack of demons pick up their pace, closing in quickly on Jace, who’s still crumpled on the ground, unable to pick himself up. Despite the fear rising in her chest, Clary takes no time in running back for Jace, throwing herself against him. Clary’s clammy hands grab onto his arms and his shirt, pulling at him, urging him to get up. When Clary catches sight of his face, she becomes aware of just how ill Jace has become and how disoriented he is. She fears for him, but knows that unless she gets herself and Jace back to their car, that there is nothing she can do for him now.</p><p>Clary struggles with him until she has one of his arms hanging around her neck, hoisting the remainder of him up with a huff. Jace’s added weight proves to be an obstacle but Clary gives it no thought, simply trudging forward toward the car, refusing to stop.</p><p>When finally the pair make it to the car, Clary doesn’t hesitate in pushing Jace into the passenger side of the vehicle, slamming the door shut before whipping around and almost coming within one of the demons reach. The demon closest to Clary tries grabbing onto her as she struggle to make it to the driver's side of the vehicle. Clary, despite herself and the odds not being in her favour, dives into drivers side of the car quickly, yelping as the demons start thrashing at the doors and windows. Clary wastes no time in starting the car ignition, shifting it into gear, her foot flooring the accelerator before swerving out onto an endless highway that promised to take her and Jace far from the demons and into an even worse fate.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys, hope everyone’s keeping well in 2021! I firstly want to extend my apologies for the lack of updates over the past few months!</p><p>I've been in the midst of moving overseas, and under normal circumstances, that's stressful enough, but throw into the mix a global pandemic, and that's a whole other level of chaos. Happy to say I am re-located and settling in BUT I do find myself very busy and lacking time to just sit and write short stories for hours on end, as much as I'd love to be able to. Hoping to update more regularly but I ask for your understanding if updates become a little more sporadic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the ongoing story and please look forward to further updates!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jace is sick. Terribly sick, in fact.</p><p>Clary only makes to stop the car when she and Jace are in the next town over, far from any demons and, from what she can see, stragglers. After a quick drive through the deserted streets, Clary decides it best if she finds a house for her and Jace to camp in for the night. Settling on a quaint cottage style homestead, Clary drives the car around the back of the homestead and into the dilapidated old barn, where Clary images live stock and a trusty old tractor may once have been kept.</p><p>Making sure to close the doors to the barn so as to keep her and Jace’s presence here on the down low, Clary then makes to assist a gravely weak Jace, who’s slipping in and out of consciousness, out of the front passengers side door. Just as Jace’s feet are safely, though somewhat unsteadily, planted on the ground, does he proceed to vomit what little content remained in his stomach from that morning.</p><p>Making sure to keep him from stumbling to the ground, Clary rubs Jace’s back as he continues to vomit, met with a fit of gut wrenching coughs between each bout, until there’s nothing left for him to bring back up. Jace struggles to catch his breath against his bodies need to expel whatever food he’d consumed that morning, his throat feeling as though it had caught fire.</p><p>"We need help," Clary tells him sternly. "Look at me, Jace. We. Need. Help."</p><p>Jace refuses to look up at her, refuses to admit that she’s right even though he knows she is. Clary takes his face gently in her hand, coaxing his chin over until he's eyes are met with hers.</p><p>"I’m not letting you do anything until you're feeling better," Clary states. "You said you trust me, so trust me when I say that you need to rest, please."</p><p>Jace considers Clary warily before tearing his gaze from hers. He nods quietly after a moment and doesn't bother to so much as protest against Clary’s orders, though Clary believes it’s more a matter of that he’s simply too weak to do so.</p><p>Having secured the barn and taken what few possessions they have from the car, Clary guides Jace around to the back of the homestead, where she manages to pry open one of the chipped painted windows so that she can slip inside and scan the house for any demons or stragglers, before returning to unlock the backdoor and help Jace inside.</p><p>Having scouted the home and found it empty, Clary leads Jace down to the end of the main hallway and into what Clary assumes was once the master bedroom. Despite the general state of disrepair, the home is in much better shape than majority of the other homes she and Jace have taken refuge in during the demise of humankind.</p><p>Despite struggling against the added weight of Jace’s body, Clary guides him over to the bed, assisting him to lie down and tucking him in under a thick pile of blankets. Almost as soon as his head touches the pillow, Jace slips into what Clary hopes is a fitless sleep, praying that his fever might break through the night.</p><hr/><p>Despite Clary’s hopes of a steady recovery, Jace’s condition only seems to worsen at the beginning of the new day.</p><p>The morning following their escape from the horde of demons, Jace is deliriously overcome with pain and fever. Deciding that it might help if he left the bed and ate something, Clary takes to helping him out from the bed covers. As she’s lifting the bed covers she sees that his clothes are soaked through with sweat and hears that his breathing is reedy and drawn out. Clary’s heart sinks a little in her chest, but she remains hopeful that with a little food in his stomach, Jace might begin to improve.</p><p>Deciding that it’s probably best she gets Jace changed out of his sweaty clothes and cleaned up in the shower before rustling up something for the pair of them to eat, Clary takes to helping Jace into the ensuite bathroom, Clary can feel just how thin Jace has become in the short while since his wounds were first inflicted. His muscle build-up has deteriorated and his normally chiselled jawline has become sallow and gaunt. The sight of Jace and his condition in the cracked ensuite mirror chills Clary to the core, but she knows she has to remain stoic for either of them to stand a chance of getting through this. Just as the pair make it over to the shower, Jace collapses to his knees, gasping for breath between rib-cracking worthy coughs. Clary holds him steady, rubbing his back as it's all she can do to help subside the pain that courses through Jace's body. Clary abandons the idea of showering Jace and instead assists him back into the bedroom and into bed where he practically melds with the bedsheets. Clary wants to try to bring down Jace's fever and remove some of the built up grime and sweat across his skin, so she returns to the ensuite and soaks some of the rags she'd found earlier in her and Jace's expeditions, in lukewarm water. Dabbing the damp cloth over his furrowed brow seems to help him settle into a dreamless sleep once more.</p><p>Four days pass and Clary sees no improvement in Jace. There's no need for argument when it comes to Jace resting as he has absolutely no strength to carry on, much less to talk. The situation she and Jace found themselves in was a "told you so" moment and that indeed Clary had been right along; that cauterising his wounds would lead to an even worse infection and that they'd become stranded without any medication to help him.</p><p>Clary does her best to wait it out, hoping that perhaps Jace will be able to fight off the infection on his own but she knows deep down that he simply isn't strong enough and that if he doesn't improve by tomorrow, he'll soon be dead.</p><p>Afraid to leave his side but knowing she has to at least try to find medical supplies, Clary takes off out the door to the cottage and onwards up the long high way in hopes of finding something, anything that might be of use to Jace. Despite not being surprised, Clary can't help but feeling disheartened upon rummaging through the few houses (clear of demons) lining the high way and coming up empty handed. As she feels a shift in the air as the evening sets in, she decides that she's been gone too long and that she needs to return to care for Jace. Trudging back towards the cottage and up the lengthy abandoned high way, Clary begins to feel the full brunt of countless days of sleeplessness. In all, she guesses she's probably running on maybe eight hours of sleep and despite how her legs feel as though they're being weighed down by lead and how her eyes droop, Clary knows she can't rest until she knows Jace is out of the woods.</p><p>By the fifth day of their being holed up in the farmhouse cottage, Clary begins to lose hope that Jace will survive his injuries. She sleeps next to him each night, either in the armchair beside the bed or next to him on the bed itself, too afraid to venture too far. Clary feels herself just begin to doze off that night when she's startled awake by the sound of Jace's muffled voice, his slight whimpers and whines. Clary straightens up immediately and sees him writhing in his sleep, his face contorted in pain. He's mumbling something incoherent, nightmares most probably plaguing his sleep. It hurts Clary to see him in even more discomfort and she can't help but to gently shake him awake in an attempt to rid of his pain. It doesn't work at first and instead his mumbling stops and he suddenly becomes too still for her liking.</p><p>Clary calls Jace's name once, twice, three times, shaking him each time she does so with more force, as the panic she feels begins to heighten. When Jace's eyes flicker open hazily, she nearly gasps in relief, sitting back in the armchair that she'd been occupying.</p><p>"Hey…" he asks, his voice a hoarse croak. "Why are you crying?"</p><p>“I’m scared, Jace…. I can't do this without you." Clary huffs, her eyes brimming with tears. </p><p>"Shh, it's okay, I'm here." Jace hums, wiping at Clary's eyes as she leans into his touch, making Jace smirk weakly.</p><p>Clary steels herself before speaking.</p><p>"How are you feeling?" Clary asks, passing her hand over Jace's forehead. "You were mumbling in your sleep; Bad dream?"</p><p>Jace nods solemnly.</p><p>''I can't remember a night before all this started that I haven't had nightmares",  Jace says, wincing as he shifts his position under the bedsheets.</p><p>"That bad huh?" Clary asks rhetorically.</p><p>Jace doesn't answer, instead shutting his weary eyes as he nods in affirmation.</p><p>"You'd think that there'd at least be some reprieve in sleep. seeing as our waking moments are spent living in a nightmare."</p><p>"Right," Clary huffs, tucking her legs up onto the armchair.</p><p>Jace doesn't acknowledge Clary's remark immediately and she inwardly panics again, lightly nudging him to see if he's still conscious. Jace pokes one eye open to see Clary already looking at him and notices her wary expression, his eyes shooting open, brow furrowed as he does his best to lift himself up to rest against the headboard.</p><p>"Tell me what's wrong," Jace whispers.</p><p>Clary tears her gaze from his and instead focuses her attention on her fingers that have taken to toying with the hem of her shirt. "I just-" Clary pauses, sighing heavily. "I can't do this without you," Clary admits quietly. "I can’t lose you too, not now. Not ever.” </p><p>"I'm not going anywhere. We’re in this together, remember?" Jace reassures Clary, his gaze steely.</p><p>"I mean, if the demons don't get to you first, your injuries might just kill you in their stead.” Clary mumbles, gnawing on her lower lip. "You're so weak right now, Jace, and there's nothing I can do to help you."</p><p>"That's not true," Jace says. "If it weren't for you, I'd already be dead."</p><p>Clary shakes her head.</p><p>"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in this condition in the first place."</p><p>Jace grimaces before speaking once more.</p><p>"Don't say things like, Clary. I'll be okay. We'll get through this, I know we will."</p><p>Clary finds herself unconvinced, despite Jace's best efforts to out her heart at ease. Jace extends his hand out to Clary, his face pleading with her to join him under the bedsheets.</p><p>Clary allows herself to be pulled over to the bed and under the covers where she instinctively curls into his side, nuzzling her head into his shoulder as his arm comes to rest upon her waist.</p><p>"How is it you're never scared?" Clary asks, her voice barely a whisper.</p><p>"I'm always scared," Jace replies, taking a pause before continuing. "Before meeting you, I was simply going through the motions; I didn't allow myself to have any delusions that there might be a way out of this, but you're so hopeful that there is, Clary, and being with you has taught me to be the same."</p><p>Clary cranes her neck up to take Jace in and finds him smiling at her, his expression soft, vulnerable.</p><p>"Keep talking," Jace says. "Say anything - let's just... stop talking about the hell hole we live in."</p><p>Clary nods, pausing to think on what it is she should say. Instead of boring Jace with drivel, Clary chooses instead to ask him a question.</p><p>"Let's say, in a few years from now, we find a cure and all those infected are saved, things start to go back to normal; Where do you see yourself?"</p><p>Jace shuts his eyes and smiles faintly, as if imagining the scene in his head. "Sprawled out on the lawns of Idris surrounded by my friends and family. Basking in the sun, eating Mushu Pork."</p><p>Clary can't help but giggle.</p><p>"I'm serious," Jace says. "You know, that's what gets me through those really rough days."</p><p>"Mushu Pork?" Clary asks incredulously.</p><p>"No," Jace rolls his eyes. "I mean, the future. Sure, the future doesn't seem all that bright right now but... I like to think about humanity finding a cure. I like to think about starting a family and growing old one day. It’s kind of comforting."</p><p>"I'm sure that one day, you'll have all those things and more, Jace." Clary states.</p><p>"What if I want it to have all those things with you?" he asks.</p><p>His question takes Clary off-guard and for a moment she's left to wonder if he said it because he's delirious and didn't mean to or if he's serious, and knowing Jace, he meant every word.</p><p>Clary doesn't reply at first, instead deep in thought of starting a family with Jace, in a future where there's a cure. The thought makes Clary smile softly to herself. There could be worse things than to grow old with Jace by her side.</p><p>"I meant it when I said it," Jace states almost abruptly. "That I'm in love with you. It's okay if you don't feel the same towards me, I just need you to know how I feel."</p><p>"I know, Jace," Clary replies. "I know."</p><p>Jace opens his mouth to speak again but Clary silences him by pressing her lips against his own. It's quick and short and Clary thinks, harmless, but it's enough to leave her head spinning, her heart stammering, her stomach aflutter. Clary parts her lips from his, and it's clear for her to see that Jace is completely dumbfounded, his eyes locked on her lips in a determined gaze. Clary doesn't know what it was that compelled her to kiss him. All she knows is that she couldn't resist the overwhelming urge, nor the next one that takes ever herself by surprise.</p><p>"What if I were to tell you I feel the same?" Clary states.</p><p>"Then... I'd be the happiest man in the world," Jace says. "But there's a part of me that doesn't believe you."</p><p>Clary feels as though she's been punched in the gut.</p><p>She wants to ask him why, how he could think, let alone <em>say</em> that, but before she can get the words out of her mouth she sees Jace's eyes sweep fleetingly over the tags Clary wears around her neck and in that moment her thoughts are transported to those of Simon. The moment is gone and so Clary clears her throat and plants a soft peck on Jace's forehead.</p><p>"You should try and get some sleep," Clary says, feeling a wave of weariness wash over her.</p><p>"Seems that’s all I’m good for lately." Jace huffs.</p><p>Clary smirks.</p><p>"Well... you need your rest. May as well take the opportunity while it's here."</p><p>Jace doesn't argue. He shifts over to give Clary more space on the bed and wraps his arm around her waist once more. "Stay with me?" Jace asks, his eyes already drooping.</p><p>"Always." Clary answers.</p><p>And with that, Jace is lost to the world, his chest heaving up and down as he slumbers.</p><p>That night as Clary watches over Jace as he sleeps, she feels her heart breaking at Jace's words; '<em>there's part of me that doesn't believe you.'</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hi! Apologies once again at the delay in updating the story; 2021 has been intense! As always, thank you for your continued support of my works. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the end of the week, and with the slightest improvement in Jace's condition, Clary decides to venture out once more to look for some sort of antibiotics for Jace. Much to Clary's delight, he no longer refuses food that is offered to him and instead eats it as if it's the last meal he'll ever have. Still not confident to leave Jace on his own for too long, Clary decides it's best she doesn't take too long on her trek for supplies. She gives herself until sundown to return to him, and Clary does so, with an hour left to spare (though she still returns empty handed and further discouraged that there's not anything left in the area to scavenge).</p><p>Clary is surprised to find that Jace is awake when she does make it back to the homestead, his body perched up against the head board, sketching something in one of the artbooks he'd given her all that time ago in the overrun mall. He asks her how her search for supplies went and the two chat for a while before Jace finds himself drifting back into a deep slumber. The sun begins to set and paints the sky with fragmented warmth, with explosions of oranges and yellows and light pink. Clary sits and watches the sun set, feeling almost at peace, that is until, as she's about to doze off, she hears a sound.</p><p>It's faint, and if Clary weren't as paranoid as she is, she might have not thought twice. She recognises it as the sound of floorboards creaking, as if a person, or people, are walking across it, and by the proximity of the sound Clary can only guess that it's coming from the next room over. As Clary jolts upright in the armchair she remembers that the only door she hadn't locked was the back door in the room next to the living room. Clary scrambles to her feet, already filled with dread, and grabs her gun from beside the bed. If something or someone is in the house, she knows she has to protect Jace at all costs.</p><p>Exiting the bedroom at the end of the hall, Clary forces herself to walk around the main floor of the house in quiet and small steps, cautious not to make any noise. As soon as you enter the other room with the back door, you notice it wide open and you begin to panic once more. That's when you hear the noise again, a creak in the floorboard, followed by the sound of a gun clicking right behind you.</p><p>She whirls around all too fast and comes face-to-face with the tip of an arrow, and knows she's in trouble.</p><p>"I wouldn't make a sound if I were you, mundane."</p>
<hr/><p>There is a moment of stiff silence.</p><p>Clary doesn't dare move, the sight of an arrow pointed directly at the point between her eyes keeps her feet firmly locked in place. The handler of the bow, a towering young man, makes no effort to back down, his arms steady and the arrow, unwavering. His features are concealed by the setting sun and the shadows it casts, but nonetheless, his presence is overwhelmingly foreboding. Despite the situation, Clary finds herself reacting on instinct, her hand coming to whip out the hand gun she keeps at her hip. Clary hopes, for her sake as well as for Jace's, that she looks even half as intimidating as she's trying to make herself out to be.</p><p>The young man, and handler of an intricately carved bow, steps toward Clary and out of the shadows and it is then that Clary can see his face. He sports a serious expression, almost a glare as he takes Clary in. If Clary weren't fearful for her life she could almost allow herself to think that the young man's olive skin, his face chiseled, piercing blue eyes, dark features and jet black hair were attractive. He's much taller than Clary was expecting; easily standing at more than six feet tall. He's wearing an all black outfit; black lace up combat boots, black (and slightly torn) skinny jeans, a black t-shirt that sports some holes and a black leather jacket. His blue eyes are menacing, narrowed into a glare, his mouth pulled into a smirk. </p><p>"Who the hell are you?" Clary hisses. "How did you get in here?"</p><p>The man, who must be only a few years older than Clary but whom has aged severely by the effects of the demon apocalypse, shrugs his broad shoulders.</p><p>"Does it matter?" he asks, his voice smooth yet husky, low and dark. "You'll be dead soon anyway, mundane."</p><p>The man's dismissive and sinister threat makes Clary frown. Clary weighs up her options in her head; In this situation, Clary knows that if she were to try and escape or fight, she certainly benefit from having Jace's help, but given that he's in the room down the hall, by the time he would be able to reach the living room, Clary would most probably be dead. If Clary were to call out, scream Jace's name, she'd only put Jace in danger by alerting the man before her that she isn't alone. Given this, Clary decides that her best bet is to speak a little louder, just loud enough so as to rouse Jace from his sleep; so that he can hear that there's an intruder, sneak up behind the man and subdue him.</p><p>"You're a Shadowhunter, aren't you?" Clary questions the man, of whom seems taken aback at Clary's question. "Why else would you call me a mundane?"</p><p>"How do you know what a Shadowhunter is?" The tall, brooding man asks. "Who are you?"</p><p>"If you promise to leave and let me go, I might just consider telling you." Clary answers, steeling herself.</p><p>"No can do, Princess." </p><p>Another voice breaks the grim silence, another man, clicking his tongue disapprovingly from behind Clary, where the opened back door is.</p><p>"Don't make this any harder than it needs to be. Drop the gun." The second man commands.</p><p>The intensity of the situation finally sinks in and Clary feels her heart sink to her stomach as she spins around to the sound of the second man's voice. Clary comes face to face with a second man and a woman and Clary realises, that even with Jace's help, the two of them are both outnumbered and most certainly, out-powered.</p><p>The second man has a rougher voice, that of aged whisky. His voice is smooth, wise, bitter, harsh. He's thinner than the man standing before Clary, whom she hasn't forgotten still has an arrow aimed directly at her forehead. The second man is taller than Clary, though not as tall as the one before her. He has dark brown hair and equally as dark brown eyes both of which stand out against his pale, almost translucent skin of which is marred by a smattering of scars and bruises.</p><p>"If you think I'll give up without a fight, you're wrong." Clary snarls.</p><p>"We really hate to do this, so please, just do as he says."</p><p>This time, Clary is met by the sound of a woman's voice. She looks to be the nicest and the youngest of the three, perhaps even the same age as Clary, though Clary wonders just how nice she can be if she's simply standing by while the other two men she's with threaten to kill Clary. The young woman has lengthy, tousled dark brown hair, an incredibly svelte figure, dark doe eyes and a set of plump lips that are currently pulled into a tight, thin line.</p><p><em>'They must be stragglers'</em>, Clary finds herself thinking, <em>'harassing and killing others they see to take their belongings; just as Jace said he once did'</em>. Clary can't find it in herself to blame them for what they're doing; it's a dog-eat-dog world, and anyone and everyone has to do what they can to survive.</p><p>"Then don't do this," Clary retorts. "I'll- I'll give you anything I have, just don't kill me."</p><p>"Drop the gun, mundane," The taller man says. "I won't ask again."</p><p>"I can't do that." Clary says, standing her ground despite her shaking legs.</p><p>"Why is it that mundanes are always like this?" The taller man scoffs.</p><p>He's grown impatient, it would appear, which is why he wastes no time in swooping towards Clary, closing the distance between the two of them in seconds. Clary tries her hardest to move out of his reach, yelping in surprise, but he's both faster and stronger than she is. He's able to knock Clary’s gun out of her hand and Clary can’t help but watch helplessly as it tumbles from her fingertips and clatters to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. The man who has swooped toward Clary now holds a firm grip around Clary’s shoulders, keeping her from reaching for her gun. Despite knowing it’s futile, Clary thrashes about, taking to shouting for him to let her go. Just as Clary decides to scream out for Jace, her left temple is met with the nose of his bow. The impact of the now against the delicate skin of her forehead causes Clary to halt her screams. A moment later with silence filling the room, Clary can feel the warmth of her blood trickle down her left cheek as Clary begins to genuinely fear for her life. Sweat coats Clary’s brow and her palms grow warm and despite the intense throbbing at her temple, Clary can only hope whoever these people are, that they don't hurt Jace.</p><p>"Listen," The man gripping onto Clary’s shoulders says, "don’t make this anymore difficult than it need to be, mundane; Are you with anyone else?"</p><p>Clary doesn't reply. She refuses to, refuses to give Jace up, even though she knows that all it would take for them to find Jace is to exit the living room  and head down to the end of the narrow hallway that leads down to the master bedroom, the one that a currently unconscious Jace occupies.</p><p>The man holding onto Clary gives her a rough shake, the motion of which makes Clary nauseous thanks to the still weeping wound at her temple. He snakes his arm around Clary’s neck and tightens his grip as he presses the nose of his bow and arrow harder against her. An involuntary whimper leaves Clary’s mouth but she bites her tongue, refusing to answer.</p><p>"Well, then-"</p><p>"If you want to get to her, you’ll have to go through me."</p><p>Clary’s ears perk at the sound of Jace's voice, her unconstrained head whipping around to look at him. Suddenly all eyes are on him. He's standing by the hallway that leads from the bedroom to the living room, leaning heavily against the wall for support. Clary can tell by the heaving of his chest and the sheen of sweat over his skin that he's struggling to stay standing, but that doesn't replace the menacing look on his face that even has chills running down Clary’s spine. The moment of elation at seeing Jace is snuffed out when Clary again finds herself panicked, worrying for his life.</p><p>"I knew those voices sounded familiar," Jace lets out. "By the Angel, you're all terrible sights for sore eyes."</p><p>The group of three seem shocked, taken aback even. Clary herself is puzzled. The grip of the man who had been holding Clary for ransom, loosens slightly,Clary taking the opportunity to pull herself from his clutches. He pays Clary no mind, his attention transfixed on Jace.</p><p>"Jace?" he asks. "Jace, is it really you?”</p><p>"Well, I'll be damned," The pale boy chuckles.</p><p>"It really is Jace; I’d recognise that smirk anywhere!" The beautiful young woman exclaims.</p><p>Clary finds herself looking for Jace to the group of three, staring at them in disbelief, unsure how to register the sudden situation.</p><p>"Y-You-" Clary stammers. "You know them?"</p><p>"Yes," Jace states. "Alec, my brother and Isabelle, my sister," Jace says, pointing his finger at the taller man and the young woman, "Though that one I don’t trust,” Jace now says as he points his finger towards the paler of the two young men. “Get away from her."</p><p>Said pale man sighs suddenly and shakes his head.</p><p>"Oh, come on, Jace, don’t be like that" he replies.</p><p>"I'm not going to say it again; get away from her," Jace repeats, completely ignoring him. His voice is stern, firm, and Clary finds herself scared. "He's like Valentine. He's one of <em>them</em>."</p><p>Clary's jaw drops. The thought of him, or perhaps of all three of them, being cannibals both repulses and terrifies Clary. The man sighs again, as if he doesn't understand what Jace is eluding to.</p><p>"Was," The man replies. "Come on, Jace. You can hardly act the saint, not when you once thought about going down that path yourself." The young man trails on. "Humans, by nature, are hunters. You know that as well as anyone else here. We need to survive. I don't see why we can't do what we have to in order to live."</p><p>Jace's jaw clenches as he glares over at the pale young man. Disregarding anything further the man might have to say, Jace turns his attention to Alec and Isabelle and frowns.</p><p>"Alec; did you hurt Clary?" Jace asks, noting the blood smeared across Clary's cheek and forehead. "What's with you? Have the two of you lost all sense?" Jace asks "You really scraped the bottom of the barrel by joining up with <em>him</em> of all people."</p><p>Isabelle makes to defend her and her brother Alec but before she can do so, Jace shouts out in pain; a sudden, shooting pain having run through his injured leg. He bursts into a fit of spluttering coughs and wheezing breaths, doubling over in an attempt to steady himself. The sudden change in position must cause a newfound pain to present itself in his bullet grazed side, as his face contorts in agony and he crumbles to the ground.</p><p>An audible gasp tears from Clary's throat as she lunges towards Jace. The man, Alec, tries to grab a hold of Clary but she manages to shake him off, driven by a newfound ferocity to be at Jace's side.</p><p>"Jace!" Clary exclaims, grabbing onto his shirt to help steady him. "You need to rest!"</p><p>"What happened to him?" Alec asks. "What did <em>you</em> do to him?"</p><p>Clary finds herself startled that Alec is accusing her of causing such harm to Jace; Did she really seem capable of committing such atrocities?</p><p>Despite the obvious pain he is in, Jace manages to push himself into a sitting position, pulling Clary to stand behind him, putting himself between Clary and the other three.</p><p>"Clary isn't the one who did this, Alec, which is more than I can say for you." Jace says, his breath reedy. "Everything she has done has been to help me."</p><p>He hisses suddenly and clutches at his thigh, his jeans, Clary can see, beginning to stain with fresh blood.</p><p>"Yeah well... as much as I hate to say it, whatever help she's been giving you, doesn't seem to be working." The pale young man interjects, garnering a thick set scowl from both Alec and Isabelle.</p><p>"Ignore him." Isabelle states, coming over to crouch down beside Jace. To Clary, Isabelle seems a lot more gentle, softer in her mannerisms than that of her brother, Alec. Clary finds that she's staring at her when when Isabelle next speaks. "What happened to him?"</p><p>Jace refuses to answer, though Clary can't fathom why; this is his sister who he's been searching for, isn't it? After a moment of awkward silence out of Jace, Clary decides to answer Isabelle's question.</p><p>"We were attacked... by a group of hunters lead by a man named Valentine." Clary begins to explain. "We were headed out East, down the highway when we spotted a pair of young men, brothers, one of whom had injured his leg. They assured us that neither of them were infected and that they could compensate us with food and water as a way of thanks for helping them. Jace didn't want to stop to help but I pleaded with him, convinced him that the least we could do was to give the boys a ride back to their camp and then be on our way. Jace was skeptical, but he went along with it only because I insisted." Clary says, shaking her head.</p><p>"It was all just a ruse. Sure, their camp was well... a camp, but not the warm and fuzzy kind. Somewhere between arriving at the camp and being offered a warm bed to rest our heads for the evening, Jace and I were separated." Clary goes on explaining, noticing how Jace was looking at her with a solemn expression. "Valentine, the leader of this group, lured me away from Jace and his pseudo sons, the brothers we'd picked up on the highway, knocked me out and locked me up in some sort of a... holding cell. When I came to, I was alone and unable to escape. That's when I saw it; the pile of clothes and shoes collected from the victims they'd captured and killed, cut-up and turned into food. It was horrid." Clary can't help but visible shudder as she recalls the overwhelming stench of the small room she'd been locked in. "I honestly thought I was going to die there. I don't know how, but I managed to find a small scalpel, cut Valentine across his stomach and escape the holding cell. All I could think to do was scream Jace's name..." </p><p>Clary trails off, wary of recounting all this information to people she doesn't know.</p><p>"It's okay Clary,' Jace reassures her, "You can trust Izzy."</p><p>Clary nods, taking in a deep breath.</p><p>"Jace heard me screaming, but so had everyone else. We did our best to outrun them and get back to our car, but they had guns... and we had nothing." Clary tells Isabelle. "As we were running back to the car, Jace was shot. I turned around and saw him lying on the ground, a shot gun pointed to his head. I didn't think, I just reacted. I ran back and tackled the guy who had Jace pinned down and killed him. I don't know how we managed to make it back to the car, but I didn't stop driving for hours and by that stage... Jace was on deaths doorstep. He'd sustained two bullet wounds; one to his thigh and another at his side. Between the graze at his side and removing the bullet imbedded in his thigh, Jace lost a lot of blood. I did what I could to disinfect the areas and cauterise the wounds but..." Clary sniffles, tears brimming from her eyes.</p><p>"He's infected," Isabelle states, finishing off Clary's sentence, nodding understandingly. "My guess? It's some kind of bacterial infection. Cauterisation can sometimes lead to that, particularly with something like a bullet wound." Isabelle concludes. "But don't worry; all it takes is a little <em>iratze</em> and Jace'll back to his cocky old self in no time." Isabelle turns to Clary and asks, "Where's his stele?"</p><p>"His what?" Clary asks.</p><p>Isabelle looks between Clary and Jace with an almost incredulous look upon her face.</p><p>"His... stele? It's a small, silver Shadowhunter object. It'd look kind of like an ornate pen or stylus to your eyes." Isabelle explains.</p><p>"I'm sorry but I don't know what you're talking about." Clary says, her puffy eyes turning to Jace for some sort of explanation.</p><p>Jace doesn't answer, his brow still set in a heavy scowl.</p><p>"Jace; where's your stele?" Isabelle asks, her voice firm.</p><p>Jace takes a moment to answer, still angry at Alec for having been so rough with Clary.</p><p>"I lost it when I got portalled out of Idris." Jace confesses.</p><p>"So what? You've had no stele all this time?" Isabelle queries.</p><p>"I've got my seraph blade, but that's about it."</p><p>Isabelle sighs and then turns to her brother.</p><p>"Alec, give me your stele." Isabelle orders.</p><p>"You know I can't do that, Izzy." Alec retorts.</p><p>"Alec. You're his brother, his Parabatai. You and your stele have the strongest connection to Jace and the likeliest chance of being able to heal him. Why would you refuse?" Isabelle questions, her eyes fierce.</p><p>Alec looks over at Jace, his expression softening ever so slightly. Saying nothing, he closes the space between himself, Isabelle, Clary and Jace in a number of strides, shrugging off his backpack and plopping it on the floor in front of him. He pauses momentarily before extracting his own stele from the middle section of his backpack.</p><p>"You're not going to get better over night, Jace, so don't push yourself," Alec states, pausing for a moment before continuing. "And for what it's worth, I'm glad we've finally found you."</p><p>The room falls silent. Clary, Isabelle and the other young man, whose name Clary is yet to learn, watch on as Alec traces his stele across the, what Clary first thought were elaborate tattoos but that Jace corrected her are actually runes, over Jace's abdomen. Clary is transfixed on the way the runes glow a sunset orange as the stele moves across them, activating all manner of power. She worries for Jace when she notices him wincing in pain but is relieved as if, almost instantly, colour begins to return to his otherwise pallor complexion.</p><p>This process goes on for, what Clary guesses must be a good half hour, in which time she finds herself lowering her guard. She's awestruck at the power that Jace and his siblings, as Shadowhunters, posses and even more so that, despite everything the world has thrown at both her and Jace, that somehow, through pure happenstance, Jace and his siblings have been reunited, even if not under the most ideal of circumstances.</p><p>When finally Alec decides that he's done all that he can to aid Jace in the process of healing, he retracts his stele, placing it back into his backpack. Standing up from where he had been crouched next to Jace, he holds out a hand for Jace. Jace hesitates at first but decides the better for it, linking his palm with Alec's and pushing himself up off the floor. When Jace has his feet planted solidly on the ground, he grimaces and glances at Alec.</p><p>"For what it's worth, I'm glad you've finally found me too." Jace says, his gaze steely.</p><p>There's a moment of stiff, awkward silence that plagues the room as the group stand around, taking in their new found circumstances. Clary wonders how Jace must be feeling; to finally be reunited with siblings he had thought were dead. She's happy for him, happy that if something were to happen to her, Jace wouldn't be alone.</p><p>Clary sighs deeply to herself, her mind clouded by thoughts of how she'd feel if she were to find Simon. She shakes her head and berates herself for dwelling on things she knows she's better off not thinking about. Instead she focuses herself on the situation at hand. Clary assumes that Jace is close with his siblings and would have once been close with the other young man who's a part of Alec and Isabelle's trio. Clary wonders what could have happened between he and Jace to cause such animosity between the two. Said man wears a frown on his face, of which Clary wonders is permanently etched into his skin. He glares over at Jace before speaking, leaving Clary to wonder if what he says is said purposely to torment Jace.</p><p>"Now that that's all settled," he hums, "how about we stay here for the night? It's pretty late and we could all use the rest."</p><p>Alec's frown returns on his face, but Isabelle seems pleased at the suggestion.</p><p>“I hate to ask this, but we would really appreciate it if we were able to take shelter here tonight. It’s late and I don’t fancy looking for somewhere else to stay at this hour.” Isabelle says, almost pleadingly.</p><p>It takes Clary a moment to realise that Isabelle's question isn't directed at Jace, but at her. The smile on her face is soft and sweet and Clary can't help but to oblige, despite Jace appearing uneasy with the proposition.</p><p>Jace begins to shake his head but before he can refuse, Clary steps in front of him, silencing any retort Jace may have been about to say.</p><p>“Offering you a place to stay is the least we could offer in return for helping Jace. I'm sure there's a lot of catching up for you to do."</p><p>A smirk tugs at the pale young man's face. He lets out a tired breath of air as he pushes himself forward, walking past Clary and Jace further into the house, already making himself at home.</p><p>"Well, then," Clary hears him say, "I'm glad that's settled."</p><p>Alec huffs in response, clearly torn with the idea, but pushes himself forward out into the living room.</p><p>"I'll let you to have a moment. Jace, we'll be in the living room should you feel up to talking." Isabelle says, smiling sweetly.</p><p>"Thanks Izzy." Jace says, nodding after Isabelle.</p><p>When finally Clary and Jace are alone again, Jace pulls Clary close to his side and whispers into her ear, "Raphael, don't trust him. Stay by my side at all times, okay?"</p><p>Though his warning frightens her, Clary wants to reiterate to Jace that he isn't necessarily in the best shape to help if something goes haywire. Nevertheless, that night, as sleep finds it's way to the dilapidated house and those that occupy it, Clary finds herself eyeing the three newcomers warily- and especially Raphael. They all sleep nearby in either the living room or family room, and Clary has a feeling that the close proximity is because no one trusts anyone else in the house.</p><p>Clary hardly sleeps that night but, when she does, she does exactly as Jace instructed and curls up into his side, as close as humanly possible.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>